.  v 


I  ALUMNI  LIBRARY,  f 

*    THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,    | 

#  PRINCETCtoJ,  N.  J.  ^ 


BV  4627  .C6  H3  183'^ 
Harris,  John,  1802-1856 
Mammon 


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GOUI.D,  KENDALI.  &   LINCOLN, 

:i3ufalisl)crs,  33oofe;scllcrs,  ^  Statfoncvs, 

59  VViSHiNGTotT  St.... Boston, 
Have  recently  published 

A  NEW  PRIZE  ESSAY,  BY   THE  AUTHOR 
OF  "  MAMMON,"  ENTITLED 

ZEBULON; 

OR,  THE  MORAL  CLAIMS  OF  SEAMEN  STATED  AND 
ENFORCED^ 

BY  REV.  JOHN  HARRIS, 

Of  Epsom,  England. 

FIRST  AMERICAN,  REVISED  FROM  THE  THIRD  LONDOW  EDITIOIC. 

Edited  by  Rev.W.  M.  Rogers,  pastor  of  Franklin 

Street  Church,  and  Rev.  Daniel  M.  Lord, 

Seaman's  Preacher,  Boston. 

Preface  to  the  American  Edition. 

The  following  work  is  substantially  a  reprint  of 
Britannia,  a  Prize  Essay  by  Mr.  Harris,  on  the  mor- 
al claims  of  Seamen.  It  seemed  desirable  that  a  pro- 
duction by  such  an  author,  on  such  a  subject,  should 
come  as  extensively  as  possible  before  the  American 
public.  In  examining  the  Essay  with  reference  to  the 
press,  it  was  found  to  be  so  completely  English,  as  to 
render  its  naturalization  indispensable  to  secure  its 
highest  utility  among  us.  The  very  things,  which  in 
part  gave  it  weight  and  influence  in  England,  unfitted 
it  for  our  own  meridian.  We  cannot  be  expected  to 
be  moved  by  the  glory  of  her  naval  warfare,  or  to 
feel  the  power  of  appeals  based  on  the  extent  of  her 
commerce.    As  far  as  the  argument  is  grounded  on 

m m 


tilings  which  are  as  true  of  the  American  as  the  Eng- 
lish sailor,  it  would  be  impertinent  to  make  any  alter- 
ations. It  has  been  our  object,  therefore,  to  make  the 
Essay  an  appeal  by  Mr.  Ilariis  to  the  Christians  of 
America,  on  the  moral  claims  of  our  own  seamen. — 
We  judged  it  indispensable  to  this  end,  that  appeals 
to  sympatliies  peculiarly  English,  should  be  erased, 
and  that  the  statistics  of  our  own  commerce  and  be- 
nevolent operations  in  behalf  of  seamen  should  be  sub- 
stituted for  those  of  England.  The  original  title  of 
Britannia  has  been  rejected,  and  from  the  various  sub- 
stitutes which  have  occurred  to  us,  we  have  selected 
(not  without  distrust)  that  of  Zebulon,  the  name  of 
the  tribe  in  Israel  who  dwelt  by  the  "  haven  of  ships." 
We  are  not  aware  of  having  taken  greater  liberties 
with  the  work,  than  was  necessary  to  our  object,  or 
than  is  common  in  England  with  the  productions  of 
American  authors.  We  hope  Mr.  Harris  will  not 
consider  his  Essay  barnacled  by  its  passage  across  the 
Atlantic.  If  it  shall  appear  to  him  to  have  suffered  at 
our  hands,  he  will  impute  it  to  an  honest,  though  mis- 
guided desire  that  he  "  might  have  some  fruit  among 
us  also,  even  as  among  other  Gentiles." 

Ai^iERiCAN  Editors. 


This  uwrk  is  just  issued  ;  but  has  received  high  com- 
mendations from  the  press,  and  seems  destined  to  enjoy 
the  same  popularity  as  its  predecessor,  "Mammon." 

From  the  Christian  Register. 
The  work  has  been  so  far  altered  by  its  American 
Editors,  as  to  adapt  it  to  the  peculiarities  of  our  na- 
tion in  regard  to  the  condition  and  wants  of  our  sea- 
men. For  which  liberty,  those  who  are  concerned 
have  made  in  the  introduction  an  apology,  undoubted- 
ly suthcient  to  the  English  author.  The  book  bears 
the  same  indubitable  mark  of  genius  and  piety  as  do 
most  of  the  other  productions  of  the  same  mind.  It  is 
destined  to  have  an  extensive  circulation;  and  will 
undoubtedly  accomplish  a  great  deal  towards  direct- 
ing the  attention  and  liberality  of  Christians  to  a  high- 
ly important,  nmnerous,  deserving,  and  at  the  same 


time  greatly  neglected  and  abused  class  of  our  breth- 
ren. 

From  Zion's  Arlvocnlc,  Portland. 

We  havecursonl}'  read  it,  and  arc  prepared  to  say  it 
well  su>tains  ihe  )ii,:;^di  reputation  wliich  the  i,Mfted  au- 
thor has  gained  by  liis'lbrmer  highly  talented  pro- 
ductions. The  introduction,  by  tic  American  editors, 
is  an  interesting  article,  in  which  are  exhibited  the 
great  advantages  of  the  "  Sailors'  Home."  We  are 
much  pleased  with  all  the  contents  of  this  volume.  It 
is  written  in  the  usual  glowing  style  of  the  author.  It 
pleads  the  cause  of  this  too  much  neglected  class  of 
our  fellow-creatures  as  we  have  never  known  it  to  be 
advocated  baihre.  Surely,  he  will  receive  a  thousand 
blessings  from  the  hardy  sons  of  the  ocean. 

We  were  hardly  aware,  before  we  read  this  Essay, 
of  the  faintncss  nnd  feebleness  of  the  ellbrls  that  have 
been  made  to  enlighten  and  Christianize  seamen— nor 
were  we  prepared  to  believe  that  their  situation  wag 
so  degraded  in  morals. 

From  tlic  Morning  Post. 
It  is  a  good  book,  and  should  be  bought  and  I'cad. 

From  tlio  Americ:in  Traveller. 
The  English  copy  has  been  revised  and  adapted  to 
our  own  country,  arui  the  Essay  will  have  a  wide  cir- 
culation, and  do  immense  good." 

From  tho  Mercantile  Journal. 
It  is  a  prize  Essay,   the  production  of  Rev.  John 
H;irris,  the  gifted   author  of  "Mammon,"  and   we 
doubt  not  will  be  gladly  welcomed,  and  be  the  mcfuis 
of  doing  much  good. 

From  the  Christian  VVutcliman. 
We  have  read  the  Essay  of  Mr.  Harris  on  the  con- 
dition of  seamen,  and  on  the  best  manner  of  improv- 
ing their  condition,  with  much  satisf-iciion  ;  and  we 
hardly  know  which  most  to  admire,  the  ability  with 
which  the  autlu^r  has  accomplished  las  undertak- 
mg,  or  the  benevolence  of  his  design.    *  *  The  pub- 


■m 


lishers  have  done  the  cause  of  American  seamen  a 
valuable  service  by  a  reprint  of  this  excellent  work. 

From  the  New  Bedford  Mercury. 
This  is  a  little  work  which  is  calculated  to  com- 
mend itself  to  all  interested  in  the  moral  advance- 
ment of  seamen.  It  is  the  production  of  the  gifted 
author  of"  Mammon,"  which  has  had  an  extensive 
circulation  in  this  country. 


MAMMON  — Prize  Essay: 

OR, 

COVETOUSNESS  THE  SIN   OF   THE  CHRISTIAN   CHURCH. 

BY  REV.  JOHN  HARRIS, 
Author  of  the  "Great  Teacher." 

THIRD   AMERICAN,   FROM    THE    TWENTIETH   LONDON   BDITIOW. 


This  Work  has  already  engaged  the  attention  of 
Churclies  and  individuals,  and  receives  the  highest 
commendations.  The  publishers  take  pleasure  in  pre- 
senting the  follovnng  united  recommendation  from  cler- 
gymen in  this  city. 

"Having  read  the  prize  Essay  of  the  Rev.  John 
Harris,  entitled  '  Mammon,  or  Covetousness  the  Sin 
of  the  Christian  Church,'  we  cordially  recommend  it 
as  deserving  the  serious  perusal  of  the  professed  fol- 
lowers of  Christ. 

"  Its  general  circulation  will  be  a  powerful  means 
of  increasing  the  spirituality  of  the  churches,  and  of 
advancing  every  good  work  which  depends  in  any 
measure  upon  pecuniary  contributions. 

R.  Anderson,         Wm.  Hague,  Lucius  BoUes, 

David  Greene,      George  B.  Ide,       Abel  Stevens^ 
Da7iiel  Sharp,       Geo.  W.  Blagden,    Wm.  Jenks, 
Wm.  M.  Rogers.  J.  H.  Fair  child,     A.  Boies, 
Jotham  Horton,     S.  S.  Mallery,        D.  M,  Lord, 
Baron  Stmv,        HiMard  Winslow,  E,  Thresher^ 


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/////) 

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lit 

MAMMON: 


COVETOUSNESS  THE  SIN  OF  THE 
CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


BY    REV.    JOHN    HARRIS, 

AUTHOR    or    THE    "GREAT    TEACHER." 


THIRD   AMERICAN, 
FROM     THE    TWENTIETH    LONDON    EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

GOULD,    KENDALL    &    LINCOLN 

No.  59  Wasliington  Street. 

1837. 


Printed  by  Wm.  A.  Hall  &  Co. 


TO 

T.    CONaUEST,   ESa.  M.D.,    F.L.S.,    &c. 

ORIGINATED  BY  ins  LIBERALITY, 

AND 

ACCOMPANIED   BY  THE   PRAYER   THAT  IT  MAY   PROMOTE 
HIS  BENEVOLENT  OBJECT, 

IS  RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTICE. 


TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 


The  rapid  sale  of  the  first  edition  of  this 
work,  made  it  necessary  to  put  to  press  a  sec- 
ond, very  soon  after  its  pubHcation.  It  has 
been  very  extensively  reviewed,  both  in  this 
country  and  in  Europe  ;  and  the  publishers 
feel  justified  in  saying,  that  few  religious 
works,  that  have  appeared  of  late  years,  have 
produced  more  sensible  effect  on  the  religious 
community,  or  have  received  more  itniversal 
encomiums,  than  "  Mammon  !  "  Certainly 
no  work  could  be  better  devised,  or  more  faith- 
fully executed,  to  counteract  the  prevaiUng 
sin  of  the  times. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  popularity  of  the 
work  in  England,  it  is  suflicient  to  give  the 
testimony  of  a  highly  respectable  clergyman, 
of  London,  who  states  in  a  communication 
lately  received,  "We  have  exhausted  the  tenth 
edition.  Ten  thousand  copies  have  been  sold 
— this  is  a  sale  which  no  writer  has  command- 


Vi  NOTICE. 


ed  since  Scott — certainly  no  religions  author." 
The  desirableness  of  having  a  cheaj)er  edition 
has  been  snggested  by  some  who  have  interest- 
ed themselves  in  the  gratuitous  distribution  of 
the  work.  The  publishers  are  therefore  happy 
to  comply  with  the  suggestion,  by  putting  it  in 
a  somewhat  different  shape. 


Boston,  Feb.  1837. 


NOTICE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


The  sale  of  Four  Thousand  copies  of  this 
popular  work,  within  one  year  from  its  first  ap- 
pearance in  this  country,  together  with  the  fact 
that  it  has  reached  its  "Twentieth  Thou- 
sand" in  England,  is  conclusive  evidence 
of  its  pecuHar  adapiedness  to  the  times,  as 
well  as  its  own  intrinsic  merits  ; — the  present 
demand  for  it  is  greater  than  ever  before,  and  it 
is  hoped  that  it  may  be  read,  circulated,  and 
its  beneficial  effects  felt  in  every  part  of  our 
country. 

October^  1837. 


r 


X   PRIITCSTOII      v. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

SELFISHNESS  THE  ANTAGONIST   OF    THE   GOSPEL. 

PAGE. 

Sect.  1. — The  Universe  designed  to  display  and  enjoy 

the  Love  of  God 17 

Sect.  2. — Sin,  as  Selfishness,  is  the  frustration  of  the 

Divine  Plan 20 

Sect.  3.— All  Sin  is  Selfishness. 23 

Sect.  1. — The  Gospel,  as  a  System  of  Benevolence,  op- 
posed to  Selfishness 26 

Sect.  5. — Selfishness,  the  Sin  of  the  World,  heis  long 

since  become  the  Sin  of  the  Church  -    -   38 

Sect.  6. — The  Forms  of  Selfishness  in  the  Church     -   42 


PART  II. 

COVETOUSNESS   THE   PRINCIPAL   FORM    OP   SELFISHNESS — IN  ITS 

NATURE,    FORMS,    PREVALENCE,    ESPECIALLY   IN   BRITAIN — 

DISGUISES,    TESTS,    EVILS,    DOOM,    AND   PLEAS. 

Sect.  1.— The  Nature  of  Covetousness 57 

Sect.  2. — Forms  of  Covetousness 61 

Sect.  3. — Prevalence  of  Covetousness 65 


Vll  CONTENTS, 

Sect.  4.— The  present  Predominance  of  Covetousness 

m  Britain 81 

Sect.  5. — The  Disguises  of  Covetousness    -    -    -    -    97 

Sect.  6. — Tests  of  Covetousness  -  -    - 106 

Sect.  7. — The  Guilt  and  Evils  of  Covetousness     -    -  119 
Sect.  8. — The  Doom  of  Covetousness  ------  156 

Sect.  9. — Excuses  of  Covetousness  for  its  want  of  Lib- 
erality   - 168 


PART  III. 

CHRISTUN   LIBERALITY  EXPLAINED   AND  ENFORCED. 

Sect.  1. — Christian  Liberality  explained     -    -    -    -  205 
Sect.  2. — Christian  Liberality  enforced 221 


'4.  theological/ 

ORIGINAL   ADVERTISEMENT. 


Many  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  men  are  of  opinion,  that 
there  is  no  sin  so  prevalent  among  professors  of  the  Gospel 
as  the  lore  of  money,  and  )'et  there  is  no  subject  on  which 
so  little  has" been  written  well.  The  late  Andrew  Fuller 
says,  "  It  will,  in  all  probability,  prove  the  eternal  over- 
throw of  more  characters  among  professing  people  than 
any  other  sin,  because  it  is  almost  the  only  crime  which 
can  be  indulged,  and  a  profession  of  religion  at  the  same 
lime  supported."  One  hundred  guineas,  besides  the  profits 
of  its  publication,  will  be  presented  to  the  author  of  the 
best  essay  on  this  subject.  Preference  will  be  given  to  the 
most  scriptural,  poignant,  and  aflectionate  appeal  to  the 
judgment  and  conscience  of  those  who  professedly  recog- 
nise the  authority  of  revelation,  on  avaricious  hoarding, 
and  on  unchristian-like  expenditure  to  gratify  the  lust  of 
the  eye  and  the  pride  of  life,  whilst  they  avow  their  obliga- 
tions to  redeeming  mercy,  and  profess  that  themselves 
and  all  they  have  is  not  their  own,  but  belongs  and  must 
be  accounted  for  to  Him  Avho  has  said,  "  Occupy  till  I 
come ; "  then  "  give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,  for 
thou  mayest  be  no  longer  steward."  The  work  wanted 
is  one  that  will  bear  on  selfishness,  as  it  leads  us  to  live  to 
ourselves,  and  not  for  God  and  our  fellow-men.  It  is  re- 
quested that  reference  may  be  made  to  the  different  esti- 
mates of  man  who  blesseth,  and  of  God  who  abhorreth  the 
covetous.  Psalm  x.3;  and  to  the  tremendous  consequences 
of  accumulating  property,  as  this  sin  is  associated  with  the 
2 


VIU  ORIGINAL   ADVERTISEMENT. 

vilest  of  crimes,  which  exclude  from  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  Ephes,  v.  5,  The  manuscript  is  to  be  sent  to  Dr. 
Conquest,  13  Finsbury-Square,  on  or  before  the  1st  of 
November,  1835,  with  a  sealed  letter  containing  the  address 
of  the  writer.  The  Hon,  and  Rev,  Baptist  Noel,  and  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Pye  Smith,  have  kindly  engaged  to  be  the  ai'bi- 
trators,  and  the  award  will  be"  adjudged  on  the  first  of 
May,  1836. 


ADJUDICATORS'  ADVERTISEMENT. 


In  the  early  part  of  the  last  year,  we  were  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  proposal  of  a  Christian  friend,  John 
Trickey  Conquest,  Esq.,  M.  D.,  F.  L.  S.  to  confer  a  prize 
of  one  hundred  guineas,  (which,  with  the  accompanying 
expenses,  amounts  to  the  donation  of  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  guineas,)  upon  any  Essay  produced  in  competi- 
tion, with  the  usual  precautions  to  preserve  the  secrecy  of 
the  authors,  upon  the  sin  or  Covetolsness-,  particularly 
with  regard  to  the  duties  of  piety  and  beneficence,  Avhich, 
at  the  present  time,  are  so  incumbent  on  all  men,  but  espe- 
cially on  those  who  would  not  abdicate  the  name  of  Christ- 
ians. The  request  was  made  that  we  would  be  the  um- 
pires in  determining  to  whom,  in  such  a  friendly  competi- 
tion, that  prize  would  be  the  most  righteously  due.  To 
that  request  we  assented  with  many  feelings  of  difficulty 
and  reluctance;  but  the  opinion  of  duty  induced  us  to  sup- 
press theriL 

The  requisite  care  was  taken,  that,  till  we  had  given  our 
decision,  we  should  not  have  the  slightest  knowledge,  or 
any  ground  of  conjecture  whatsoever,  concerning  the  wri- 
ters of  the  Essays,  wliich  were  no  fewer  than  one  hundred 
and  forty-three. 

After  much  thought,  and  humbly  seeking,  by  prayer  and 
supplication,  that  we  might  be  enabled  to  form  a  right 
judgment,  we  saw  it  to  be  our  duty  to  declare  the  work 
now  given  to  the  public,  to  be  the  one  entitled  to  Dr.  Con- 
quest's munificent  prize.    But  we  did  not  arrive  at  this 


X  adjudicators'  advertisement. 

determination,  without  a  high  feeling  of  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration at  the  mass  of  sanctified  talent  which  had  been 
brought  before  our  view.  Many  of  the  Treatises,  some 
of  which  are  considerable  volumes,  are  so  replete  with 
knowledge  of  the  divine  word,  of  the  heart  and  character 
of  man,  and  are  so  marked  with  comprehensive  research, 
deep  penetration,  and  Christian  candor,  as  to  have  made 
us  feel  considerable  regret  at  the  thought  of  their  being 
withheld  from  the  public.  We  are  conscientiously  satis- 
fied with  the  decision  which  we  thus  announce;  but  it  is, 
at  the  same  time,  our  earnest  desire  that  some  others  of 
the  Essays  should  be  published.  We  are  persuaded  that 
the  subject  is  not  exhausted;  and  if,  by  the  respective  au- 
thors, our  request  for  the  publication  should  be  granted,we 
trust  the  great  cause  of  religion  will  be  eminently  served, 
and  that  the  minds  of  those  excellent  persons  will  enjoy  the 
delight  which  flows  from  extensive  and  the  most  important 
usefulness. 

J.  PYE  SMITH. 

BAPTIST  W.  NOEL. 

Near  London,  June  3,  183G. 


•7  PEIXTCHTOII    ^^. 


PREFACE 


The  history  of  this  Essay  is  sufficiently- 
explained  by  the  Advertisements  prefixed. 
But  concerning  its  plarij  as  the  reader  may 
possibly  expect  that  the  following  pages  are 
confined  exclusively  to  the  subject  of  Covet- 
ousness,  the  writer  may  be  permitted  to  state 
the  reasons  which  have  led  him  to  introduce 
two  other  topics — Selfishness,  and  Christian 
Liberality. 

A  glance  at  the  original  advertisement  will 
show,  that  while  the  sin  of  covetousness  was 
the  principal  object  in  the  eye  of  the  benevo- 
lent Proposer,  yet  it  was  viewed  and  spoken 
of  by  liim  only  as  a  part  of  the  great  system 
of  selfishness.  The  writer  felt  himself,  there- 
fore, not  merely  permitted,  but  virtually  re- 
quired, to  give  this  parent  evil  a  primary 
place  in  his  Essay.  He  is,  however,  free  to 
confess,  that  had  he  not  done  so  from  a  sense 
of  obligation,  he  should  most  likely  have  done 
2* 


Xll  PREFACE. 

it  from  choice,  since  he  deems  it  an  appropri- 
ate introduction  to  the  principal  subject.  On 
this  account,  then.  Selfishness,  as  the  great 
antagonist  of  Christianity,  and  the  source  of 
covetousness,  forms  the  First  Part. 

Covetousness — the  prevailing  form  of  self- 
ishness— is  the  Second  and  principal  Part. 
Had  the  writer  concluded  with  this  part,  he 
could  not  have  considered  the  Essay  com- 
plete, unless  a  closing  section  has  been  added, 
on  the  Cure  of  the  evil  under  consideration. 
In  that  case,  it  would  have  been  obvious  to 
insist  on  a  variety  of  familiar  prudential  max- 
ims. But  the  love  of  money  can  only  be 
remedied  by  "  the  expulsive  power  of  a  new 
affection."  If  we  would  not  have  the  ivy  to 
creep  on  the  ground,  we  must  erect  an  object 
which  it  can  embrace,  and,  by  embracing,  as- 
cend ;  and  if  we  would  detach  the  heart  from 
embracing  the  dust,  we  must  give  to  it  another 
and  a  nobler  object.  The  utter  ineiScacy  of 
every  thing  short  of  this  is  evident.  Hippoc- 
rates advised  a  consultation  of  all  the  phy- 
sicians in  the  world  for  the  cure  of  covetous- 
ness. The  animadversions  and  appeals  of 
Socrates  not  only  failed  to  remedy  the  evil  as 
it  existed  at  Athens,  but,  judging  from  certain 
expressions  in  Plato's  Apology  of  Socrates, 
they  were  the  means  of  enraging  his  enemies, 
and  of  procuring  his  condemnation.  And 
about  the  time  that  the  apostle  Paul  was  de- 


PREFACE.  Xni 

nouncing  tlie  sin,  in  his  epistle  to  Timothy, 
Seneca  was  decrying  the  same  evil,  and  com- 
posing his  ethics  ;  but,  as  if  to  show  the  im- 
potence of  his  own  precepts,  "he  was  accused 
of  having  amassed  the  most  ample  riches," — a 
circumstance  which,  though  not  the  ostensi- 
ble, was  no  doubt  the  real  cause  of  his  finally 
falling  a  victim  to  the  jealousy  of  Nero.  But 
if  such  be  the  ineflicacy  of  the  precepts  of  the 
heathen  philosopher,  what  is  the  prescription 
of  the  Christian  apostle  ?  Aware  that  the 
same  means  which  destroy  cupidity  produce 
liberality,  he  does  not  concern  himself  so 
much  with  the  death  of  covetousness  as  with 
the  birth  of  charity.  He  says  less  about  the 
sin  when  seeking  its  removal,  than  about  the 
duty  which  is  to  displace  it.  He  commands 
benevolence.  He  enjoins  the  "man  of  God" 
not  only  to  Jlee  the  evil,  but  to  follow  the  op- 
posite virtues,  and  to  flee  the  one  by  following 
the  other.  "  O  man  of  God,  flee  these  things  ; 
and  follow  after  righteousness,  godliness,  faith, 
love,  patience,  meekness  ....  Charge  them 
that  are  rich  in  this  world  ....  that  they  do 
good,  that  they  bo  rich  in  good  works,  ready 
to  distribute,  willing  to  communicate  ;  laying 
up  in  store  for  themselves  a  good  foundation 
against  the  time  to  come,  that  they  may  lay 
hold  on  eternal  life," 

Instead,  therefore,  of  ending  with  a  section 
on  the  cure  of  covetousness,  the  writer  thinks 


XIV  PREFACE. 

he  has  copied  inspired  example,  and  increased 
the  practical  effect  of  the  Essay,  and  better 
consulted  the  intentions  of  the  party  who  has 
occasioned  it,  by  adding  a  Third  Part,  on 
Christian  Liberahty.  The  cross  of  Christ 
is  not  merely  a  perpetual  protest  against  the 
selfishness  of  the  world  ;  it  has  given  a  new 
object  to  our  affections,  and  a  new  motive  to 
our  obedience — that  object  is  Christ,  and  that 
motive  is  the  love  we  bear  to  him.  Till  this 
love  possess  us,  the  subhmest  maxims  fail  to 
reach  the  heart ;  but  from  the  moment  we 
begin  to  be  actuated  by  it,  cupidity  and  all 
the  baser  passions  are  doomed  to  destruction. 

Diodorus  Siculus  relates  that  the  forest  of 
the  Pyrenean  mountains  being  set  on  fire,  and 
the  heat  penetrating  to  the  soil,  a  pure  stream 
of  silver  gushed  forth  from  the  bosom  of  the 
earth  and  revealed,  for  the  first  time,  the  ex- 
istence of  those  rich  lodes  afterwards  so  cele- 
brated. Covetousness  yields  up  its  pelf  for 
sacred  uses  as  unwillingly  as  if  it  were  ap- 
pointed to  succeed  the  earth  in  the  office  of 
holding  and  concealing  it ;  but,  let  the  melt- 
ing influence  of  the  cross  be  felt,  let  the  fire 
of  the  gospel  be  kindled  in  the  church,  and 
its  ample  stores  shall  be  seen  flowing  forth 
from  their  hidden  recesses,  and  becoming 
"  the  fine  gold  of  the  sanctuary." 

The  title  which  the  writer  has  adopted  for 
the  Essay  designates  covetousness  the  sin  of 


PREFACE.  XV 

tlio  Christian  church.  He  is  aware  that  by 
bringing  even  an  ordinary  evil  near  to  the 
eye,  and  prolonging  one's  gaze  at  it,  it  may 
go  on  swelling  and  enlarging  in  the  appre- 
hension, till  it  has  come  to  fill  the  whole 
sphere  of  vision,  to  the  exclusion  and  tempo- 
rary oblivion  of  other  evils  of  superior  masf- 
nitude.  That  covetousness  is  not  the  only 
evil  which  the  Christian  church  has  to  con- 
fess— that  it  is  only  one  of  many  evils — he  is 
quite  insensible  ;  and  he  trusts  that  the  view 
which  he  has  taken  of  its  surpassing  enor- 
mity is  by  no  means  chargeable  with  the  ef- 
fect of  lessening  our  convictions  of  those  other 
evils.  All  the  sins  of  the  Christian  church 
stand  closely  related  ;  by  action  and  reac- 
tion they  are  constantly  producing  and 
strengthening  each  other  ;  and  it  is  to  its  su- 
perior activity  and  influence  in  the  produc- 
tion of  those  other  sins  that  cupidity  owes  its 
bad  pre-eminence.  If  the  love  of  money  then 
be  the  root  of  the  evils  in  question,  a  descrip- 
tion of  its  deadly  nature  should  have  the  ef- 
fect, not  of  diminishino^,  but  auofmentins:  our 
aversion  to  its  destructive  fruits.  The  writer 
feels  convinced  that  the  best  mode  of  acquiring 
a  clear,  comprehensive  and  impressive  view 
of  all  the  existinsf  defects  of  the  Christian 
church,  as  a  whole,  is  to  view  them  first  sep- 
arately and  in  succession  ;  and  that  he  who 
succeeds  in  laying  open  and  correcting  one 


.« 


XVI  PREFACE, 

of  these  defects,  has  gone  far  towards  reme- 
dying all  the  rest.  With  the  sincere  desire 
that  he  maybe  the  means  of  inflicting  if  only 
a  single  blow  on  the  root  of  all  evil,  and  of 
thus  aiding  the  growth  of  that  plant  "which 
is  from  above  ....  full  of  mercy  and  of  good 
fruits,"  he  would  place  this  Essay  at  the 
feet  of  Him  who  deigns  to  commend  the  wid- 
ow's mite. 


PART   THE   FIRST. 


SELFISHNESS   THE    ANTAGONIST    OF   THE    GOSPEL. 


.•;^  raiiTGETGii    x-. 

■/  V, 

^.THSOLQGI 

SECTION   I. 


THE  UNIVERSE   DESIGNED  TO   DISPLAY   AND  ENJOY    THE   LOVE 
OF    GOD. 

"  God  is  love  :" — and  the  true  theory  of  the 
universe  is,  that  it  is  a  vehicle  or  medium  con- 
structed expressly  for  the  circulation  and  diffu- 
sion of  his  love.  Full  of  blessedness  himself, 
his  goodness  burst  forth,  at  first  into  a  celestial 
creation,  replenished  with  bright  intelligences, 
invested  with  the  high  prerogative  of  approach- 
ing as  near  to  the  Fountain  of  excellence  as  cre- 
ated natures  can,  to  derive  their  happiness  imme- 
diately from  himself,  and  to  derive  it  to  the  full 
amount  of  their  capacity  for  enjoyment. 

But  heaven,  with  all  its  amplitude,  was  too 
confined  for  Infinite  Love;  he  must  enlarge  the 
sphere  of  his  beneficence;  again  his  unconfined 
goodness  overflowed,  and  this  terrestrial  creation 
appeared — an  enlargement  of  heaven.  On  that 
occasion,  however,  he  chose  to  diversify  the  form 
of  his  love  in  the  production  of  man, — a  creature 
whose  happiness,  though  equally    with   that  of 


IS  THE    LOVE    OF    GOD. 

angels  derived  from  Himself,  should  reach  him 
through  more  indirect  and  circuitous  channels. 
By  creating,  at  first,  one  common  father  of  the 
species,  he  designed  that  each  individual  should 
feel  himself  allied  to  all  the  rest,  and  pledged  to 
promote  their  happiness.  And  by  rendering  us 
necessary  to  each  other's  welfare,  he  sought  to 
train  us  to  an  humble  imitation  of  his  own  good- 
ness, to  teach  us  the  divine  art  of  benevolence — 
to  find  and  fabricate  our  own  happiness  from  the 
happiness  of  others. 

Now,  if  the  former,  the  angelic  creation,  was 
meant  to  exemplify  how  much  his  creatures  could 
cnjoi/,  the  latter  was  intended  to  show  how 
nmch  they  could  impart;  for  he  meant  every 
heart  and  every  hand  to  be  a  consecrated  chan- 
nel for  his  love  to  flow  in.  Had  his  great  idea 
been  realised,  the  world  would  have  exhibited 
the  glorious  spectacle  of  a  whole  race  in  family 
compact;  clothed  in  a  robe  of  happiness,  with 
charity  for  a  girdle  ;  feasting  at  a  perpetual  ban- 
quet of  beneficence ;  hailing  the  accession  of 
every  new-born  member  as  the  advent  of  an  an- 
gel, an  addition  to  their  common  fund  of  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  finding  greater  blessedness  than  that 
of  passively  receiving  happiness  in  exercising 
the  godlike  |)rerogative  of  imparting  it ; — a  whole 
order  of  intelligent  beings,  having  one  heart,  and 
one  mind ;  a  heart  beating  in  concert  with  heav- 
en, and  ditfusing,  with  every  pulse,  life,  and 
health,  and  joy,  to  the  remotest  members  of  the 
body.     The  mere  outline  of  the  scene,  as  sketch- 


THE    LOVE    OF    GOD.  19 

ed  by  God  in  pnrndisc,  called  forth  audible  ex- 
pressions of  his  divine  coni[)laccncy  ;  on  survey- 
in*^  it  from  the  hei<;ht  of  the  excellent  fj^lory,  he 
pronounced  it  ^^ood,  and  the  light  of  his  counte- 
nance fell  upon  it. 


SECTION    II 


SIN,   AS     SELFISHNESS,     IS    THE     FRUSTRATION   OF    THE     DIVINE 
PLAN, 

But  the  awful  invasion  of  sin  frustrated  the 
divine  intention,  destroyed  it  even  in  its  type  and 
model.  Man  aspired  to  be  as  God;  and,  from 
that  fatal  moment,  his  great  quarrel  with  his 
Maker  has  been,  a  determination  to  assert  a  state 
of  independence  altogether  alien  to  his  nature 
and  condition.  The  standard  of  revolt  was  then 
erected,  and  the  history  of  all  his  subsequent 
conduct  has  been  the  history  of  an  insane  en- 
deavor to  construct  an  empire,  governed  by 
laws  and  replenished  with  resources,  indepen- 
dent of  God.  The  idolatry  and  sensuality,  the 
unbelief,  irreligion,  and  all  the  multiform  sins  of 
man,  are  resolvable  into  this  proud  and  infernal 
attempt.  Having  by  his  apostacy  cut  himself 
off  from  God,  he  affects  to  be  a  god  to  himself,  to 
be  his  own  sufficiency,  his  own  first  and  last. 

Such,  however,  is  the  intimate  dependence  of 
man  on  man,  that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  at- 


SIN,    A    FRUSTRATION    OF    GOd's    PLAN.  21 

tempt  to  realize  this  enormous  fiction  without 
being  brought,  at  every  step,  into  violent  collision 
with  the  interest  of  his  fellows.  Love  to  God  is 
the  all-combining  principle  which  was  to  hold 
each  individual  in  adhesion  to  all  the  rest,  and 
the  whole  in  affinity  with  God  ;  the  loss  of  that, 
therefore,  like  the  loss  of  the  great  law  of  at- 
traction in  the  material  world,  leaves  all  the 
several  parts  in  a  state  of  repulsion  to  each  other, 
as  well  as  the  whole  disjoined  from  God.  Hav- 
ing lost  its  proper  centre  in  God,  the  world  at- 
tempts not  to  find  any  common  point  of  repose, 
but  spends  itself  in  fruitless  efforts  to  erect  an 
infinity  of  independent  interests.  Every  king- 
dom and  province,  every  family,  every  individual, 
discovers  a  propensity  to  insulate  himself  from 
the  common  brotherhood,  and  to  constitute  him- 
self the  centre  of  an  all-subordinating  and  ever- 
enlarging  circle.  Such  is  the  natural  egotism  of 
the  heart,  that  each  individual,  following  his 
unrestrained  bent,  acts  as  if  he  were  a  whole 
kingdom  in  himself,  and  as  if  the  general  well- 
being  depended  on  subjection  to  his  supremacy. 
Setting  up  for  himself,  to  the  exclusion  of  every 
other  being,  he  would  fain  be  his  own  end, — the 
reason  of  all  he  does. 

Under  the  disorganizing  influence  of  sin,  then, 
the  tendency  of  mankind  is  towards  a  state  of 
universal  misanthropy;  and  were  it  not  that 
some  of  their  selfish  ends  can  be  attained  only  by 
partial  confederations,  the  world  would  disband, 
society  in  all  its  forms  would  break  up,  every 
man's  hand  would  be  turned  into  a  weapon,  and 


22        SIN,    A    FRUSTRATION    OF    GOD  S    PLAN. 

all  the  earth  become  a  battle-fiekl,  in  which  the 
issues  to  be  decided  would  be  as  numerous  as 
the  combatants,  so  that  tlie  conllict  could  end 
only  with  the  destruction  of  every  antaffonist. 

There  is,  be  it  observed,  a  wide  difference 
between  selfishness  and  legitimate  selt-love.  This 
is  a  principle  necessary  to  ail  sentient  existence. 
In  man,  it  is  the  principle  which  impels  him  to 
preserve  his  own  life,  and  promote  his  own  hap- 
piness. Not  only  is  it  consistent  with  ])iety,  it  is 
the  stock  on  which  all  piety,  in  lapsed  man,  is 
grafted.  Piety  is  only  the  principle  of  self-love, 
carried  out  in  the  right  direction,  and  seeking  its 
supreme  hapj)iness  in  God.  It  is  the  act  or 
habit  of  a  man  who  so  loves  himself  that  he  gives 
himself  to  God.  Selfishness  is,  fallen  self-love. 
It  is  self-love  in  excess,  blind  to  the  existence 
and  excellence  of  God,  and  seeking  its  happiness 
in  inferior  objects,  by  aiming  to  subdue  them  to 
its  own  purposes. 


SECTION    III 


ALf,   SIN   IS   SEf-FISHNESS. 


Accordingly,  selfishness,  as  we  have  already 
intimated,  is  the  universal  form  of  human  de- 
pravity ;  every  sin  that  can  be  named  is  only  a 
modification  of  it.  What  is  avarice,  but  selfish- 
ness graspinjr  and  hoarding  ?  What  is  prodigal- 
ity, but  selfishness  decorating  and  indulging  it- 
self— a  man  sacrificing  to  himself  as  his  own 
god  ?  What  is  sloth,  but  tliat  god  asleep,  and 
refusing  to  attend  to  the  loud  calls  of  duty  1 
And  wliat  is  idolatry,  but  that  god  enshrined — 
man,  worshipping  the  reflection  of  his  own  im- 
age ?  Sensuality,  and,  indeed,  all  the  sins  of 
the  flesh,  are  only  selfishness  setting  itself  above 
law,  and  gratifying  itself  at  the  expense  of  all 
restraint.  And  all  the  sins  of  the  spirit  are  only 
the  same  principle  impatient  of  contradiction, 
and  refusing  to  acknowledge  superiority,  or  to 
bend  to  any  will  but  its  own.  What  is  egot- 
ism, but  selfishness  speaking  ?  Or  crime,  but 
selfishness,  without  its  mask,  in  earnest,  and 
3* 


24 


ALL    SIN    IS    SELFISHNESS. 


acting  ?  Or  offensive  war,  but  selfishness  con- 
federated, armed,  and  bent  on  aggrandizing  it- 
self by  violence  and  blood  ?  An  offensive  army 
is  the  selfishness  of  a  nation  embodied,  and  mov- 
ing to  the  attainment  of  its  object  over  the 
wrecks  of  human  happiness  and  life.  "From 
whence  come  wars  and  fighting  among  you? 
Come  they  not  hence,  even  of  your  lusts  ?  " 
And  what  are  all  these  irregular  and  passionate 
desires,  but  that  inordinate  self-love  which  ac- 
knowledges no  law,  and  will  be  confined  by  no 
rules — that  selfishness  which  is  the  heart  of  de- 
pravity ? — and  what  but  this  has  set  the  world 
at  variance,  and  filled  it  with  strife  ?  The  first 
presumed  sin  of  the  angels  that  kept  not  their 
first  estate,  as  well  as  the  first  sin  of  man, — 
what  was  it  but  selfishness  insane  1  an  irrational 
and  mad  attempt  to  pass  the  limits  proper  to  the 
creature,  to  invade  the  throne,  and  to  seize  the 
rights,  of  the  Deity  ?  And  were  we  to  analyze 
the  very  last  sin  of  which  we  ourselves  are  con- 
scious, we  should  discover  that  selfishness,  in 
one  or  other  of  its  thousand  forms,  was  its 
parent.  Thus,  if  love  was  the  pervading  prin- 
ciple of  the  unfallen  creation,  it  is  equally  cer- 
tain that  selfishness  is  the  reigning  law  of  the 
world,  ravaged  and  disorganized  by  sin. 

It  must  be  obvious,  then,  that  the  great  want 
of  fallen  humanity,  is,  a  specific  against  selfish- 
ness, the  epidemic  disease  of  our  nature.  The 
expedient  which  should  profess  to  remedy  our 
condition,  and  yet  leave  this  want  unprovided 
for,  whatever  its  other  recommendations  might 


ALL    SIN    IS    SELFISHNESS.  ^O 

be,  would  be  leaving  tlie  seat  and  core  of  our 
disease  unlouclicd.  And  it  would  be  easy  to 
show  that  in  this  radical  defect  consist  the  im- 
potence of  every  system  of  false  religion,  and  of 
every  heterodox  modification  of  the  true  religion, 
to  restore  our  disordered  nature  to  happiness  and 
God.  And  equally  easy  is  it  to  show  that  the 
gospel,  evangelically  interpreted,  not  only  takes 
cognizance  of  this  peculiar  feature  of  our  mal- 
ady, but  actually  treats  it  as  the  very  root  of  our 
depravity,  and  addresses  itself  directly  to  the 
task  of  its  destruction, — that,  as  the  first  effect 
of  sin  was  to  produce  selfishnesss,  so  the  first  ef- 
fect of  the  gospel  remedy  is  to  destroy  that  evil, 
and  to  replace  it  with  benevolence. 


SECTION    IV 


THE  GOSPEL,    AS  A     SYSTEM    OF    BENEVOLENCE,    OPPOSED    TO 
SELFISHNESS. 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  gospel  that  it  was  calcu- 
lated and  arranged  on  the  principle  of  restoring 
to  the  world  the  lost  spirit  of  benevolence.  To 
realise  this  enterprise  of  boundless  mercy,  Je- 
hovah resolved  on  first  presenting  to  mankind  an 
unparalleled  exhibition  of  grace — an  exhibition 
which,  if  it  failed  to  rekindle  the  extinguished 
love  of  man,  should,  at  least,  have  the  effect  of 
converting  his  angels  into  seraphs,  and  his  ser- 
aphs into  flames  of  fire.  The  ocean  of  the  divine 
love  was  stirred  to  its  utmost  depths.  The  en- 
tire Godhead  was — if  with  profound  reverence  it 
may  be  said — put  into  activity.  The  three  glori- 
ous subsistencies  in  the  Divine  Essence  moved 
towards  our  earth.  Every  attribute  and  distinc- 
tion of  the  Divine  Nature  was  displayed  :  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  em- 
barked their  infinite  treasures  in  the  cause  of 
human  happiness. 


GOSPEL    OrrOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  27 

"  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  heorotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 
He  could  not  give  us  more  ;  and  the  vast  propen- 
sions  of  his  grace  could  not  be  satisfied  by  be- 
stowing less.  He  would  not  leave  it  possible  to 
be  said  that  he  could  give  us  more:  he  resolved 
to  pour  out  the  whole  treasury  of  heaven,  to  give 
us  his  all  at  once.  "  Herein  is  love  !  " — love  de- 
fying all  computation  :  the  very  mention  of  which 
should  surcharge  our  hearts  with  gratitude,  give 
us  an  idea  of  infinity,  and  replace  our  selfislmess 
with  a  sentiment  of  generous  and  ditfusive  be- 
nevolence. 

Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  as  the  em- 
bodied love  of  God.  He  came  and  stood  before 
the  world  with  the  hoarded  love  of  eternity  in 
his  heart,  offering  to  make  us  the  heirs  of  all  its 
wealth.  He  so  unveiled  and  presented  the  char- 
acter of  God,  that  every  human  being  should  feel 
it  to  be  looking  on  himself,  casting  an  aspect  of 
benignity  on  himself  "  He  pleased  not  him- 
self "  lie  did  notliing  for  himself;  whatever  he 
did  was  for  the  advantage  of  man.  Selfishness 
stood  abashed  in  his  presence.  *'  He  went  about 
doing  good.  "  He  assumed  our  nature  expressly 
that  he  might  be  able  to  suffer  in  our  stead  ;  for 
the  distinct  and  deliberate  object  of  pouring  out 
its  blood,  and  of  making  its  soul  an  offering  for 
sin.  He  ])lanted  a  cross,  and  presented  to  the 
world  a  prodigy  of  mercy  of  which  this  is  the 
only  solution,  that  he  "  so  loved  us.  "  "  While 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.  "     He 


28 


took  our  place  in  the  universe,  absorbed  our  in- 
terest, opened  his  bosom,  and  welcomed  to  his 
heart  the  stroke  which  we  deserved. 

And  in  all  he  did,  he  thought  of  the  world. 
He  loved  man  as  man  :  he  came  to  be  the  light 
and  life  of  the  world.  He  came  and  stood  as  the 
centre  of  attraction  to  a  race  of  beings  scattered 
and  dissipated  bj  the  repulsive  power  of  selfish- 
ness. He  proposed  by  the  power  of  the  cross  to 
*'  draw  all  men  unto  him.  "  His  heart  had  room 
for  the  whole  race  ;  and,  opening  his  arms,  he 
invited  all  to  come  unto  him.  The  whole  of  his 
course  was  a  history  of  pure  and  disinterested 
benevolence ;  one  continued  act  of  condescen- 
sion ;  a  vast  and  unbroken  descent  from  the 
heights  of  heaven,  to  the  form  of  a  servant,  the 
life  of  an  outcast,  the  death  of  a  malefactor. 
His  character  is  a  study  of  goodness — a  study 
for  the  universe  ;  it  is  the  conception  of  a  Being 
of  infinite  amiableness  ;  seeking  to  engage  and 
enamor  the  heart  of  a  selfish  world.  The  world, 
having  lost  the  original  idea  of  goodness  and 
sunk  into  a  state  of  universal  selfishness,  his 
character  was  calculated  and  formed  on  the 
principle  of  a  laborious  endeavor  to  recall  the 
departed  spirit  of  benevolence — to  baptize  it 
afresh  in  the  element  of  love. 

The  oflSce  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  appointed  and 
concurs  to  the  same  end.  Tlie  world  could  not 
be  surprised  out  of  its  selfishness,  and  charmed 
into  benevolence  by  the  mere  spectacle  even  of 
divine  love.  Thcit  love  can  be  understood  only 
by  sympathy  j  but  for  this,  sin  had  disqualified 


OPPOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  29 

U8.  According  to  the  economy  of  grace,  there- 
fore, the  exhibition  of  that  love  in  God  is  to  be 
made  the  means  of  producing  love  in  us;  the 
glorious  spectacle  of  love  as  beheld  in  God,  is  to 
be  turned  into  a  living  principle  in  us.  For  this 
end,  the  holy,  unconfined  and  infinite  Spirit 
came  down.  His  emblem  is  the  wind  :  he  came 
like  a  rushing  mighty  wind,  came  with  a  fulness 
and  a  power,  as  if  he  sought  to  fill  every  heart, 
to  replenish  the  church,  to  be  the  soul  of  the 
world,  to  encircle  the  earth  with  an  atmosphere 
of  grace  as  real  and  universal  as  the  elemental 
air  which  encompasses  and  circulates  around  the 
globe  itself,  that  whoever  inhaled  it  might  have 
eternal  life. 

In  the  prosecution  of  his  office  he  was  to  take 
of  the  things  of  Christ,  and  show  them  unto 
men.  Heaven  stooping  to  earth  ;  God  becoming 
man,  dying  upon  the  cross  ;  infinite  benevolence 
pouring  out  all  its  treasures  for  human  happi- 
ness,— these  were  the  things  which  he  was  to  re- 
veal,— the  softening  and  subduing  elements  with 
which  he  was  to  apj^roach  and  enter  the  human 
heart.  In  his  hands,  these  truths  were  to  be- 
come spirit  and  life.  From  the  moment  they 
were  felt,  men  were  to  be  conscious  of  a  change 
in  their  relation  both  to  God  and  to  each  other. 
A  view  of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  had  loved 
them,  was  to  fill  their  minds  with  a  grand  and 
overpowering  sentiment  of  benevolence,  which 
should  melt  their  obduracy,  cause  them  to  glow 
with  gratitude,  and  bind  them  fast  to  himself  in 
the  strongest  bands  of  love.     That  love,  with  all 


30  THE   GOSPEL,    AS    A    SYSTEM, 

the  communicativeness  of  fire  was  to  extend  to 
tlieir  fellow-men.  Every  weapon  of  revenge 
was  to  fall  from  their  hands  ;  every  epithet  of 
anger  was  to  die  on  their  lips ;  and  where,  be- 
fore, they  saw  nothing  bat  foes,  they  were  hence- 
forth to  behold  magnificent  objects  of  affection, 
immortal  beings,  whom  it  would  be  happiness  to 
love,  and  godlike  to  bless.  The  love  of  Christ 
would  constrain  them  ;  glowing  and  circulating 
in  their  spiritual  system,  like  the  life-blood  in 
their  hearts,  it  would  impel  them  to  be  active  for 
his  glory.  Having  communed  with  the  heart  of 
Infinite  Love,  they  were  to  go  forth  and  mingle 
with  their  race,  filled  with  a  benevolence  like 
that  which  brought  their  Lord  from  heaven. 
Placing  themselves  at  his  disposal,  they  were  to 
find  that  they  were  no  longer  detached  from  the 
species,  but  restored  and  related  to  all  around  ; 
the  sworn  and  appointed  agents  of  happiness  to 
the  world. 

The  institution  of  a  church,' is  only  the  con- 
tinuation and  application  of  the  great  scheme  of 
love.  Its  offices  were  not  to  terminate  on  itself. 
It  was  constructed  on  the  principle  of  consoli- 
dating and  facilitating  the  operations  of  divine 
benevolence  upon  the  world.  The  Son  of  God — 
the  great  manifestation  of  that  love — must  per- 
sonally withdraw  from  the  earth  ;  but  his  church, 
consisting  of  the  aggregate  of  all  on  whom  that 
love  had  taken  effect,  would  continue  to  give  vis- 
ibility and  activity  to  that  love.  He  stopped  not 
at  the  bare  exhibition  of  his  grace,  but  turned 
♦hat  exhibition  into  a  means  of  implanting   a 


OPPOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  31 

kindred  principle  of  love  in  the  human  heart :  he 
stopped  not  at  the  implantation  of  this  principle, 
but  instituted  a  church  for  the  express  ])urpose 
of  enij)loyin<5  it  for  the  benefit  of  the  world  ;  of 
employinrj  it  on  the  largest  scale  and  with  the 
greatest  effect,  and  of  thus  conferring  on  it  the 
power  of  propagating  itself. 

In  the  Christian  church,  every  thing  would 
conspire  to  keep  alive  in  its  members  the  new 
principle  which  Christ  had  brought  into  the 
world,  and  to  give  efficiency  to  its  benign  opera- 
tions. Love  was  the  principle  which  would 
bring  them  together,  which  would  draw  them 
from  their  distant  and  detached  position,  harmo- 
nize their  jarring  natures,  and  fuse  all  their 
hearts  and  interests  into  one.  ConverjriniT  from 
tile  most  opposite  points,  they  would  meet  at  the 
cross  ;  and  the  principle  which  had  drawn  them 
to  that  would  bind  them  to  each  other.  Each 
would  behold  in  every  other  a  living  memorial  of 
his  Lord  ;  and  see,  in  the  grace  of  Christ  to  the 
whole,  a  token  of  that  grace  to  liimself  in  par- 
ticular. Here,  love,  as  an  agent  or  instrument, 
either  giving  or  receiving,  was  to  find  itself  in 
perpetual  exercise,  and  to  behold  its  image  re- 
liected  in  every  face. 

But  Love  is  diffusive  ;  it  would  not  confine  its 
offices  to  those  only  who  could  repay  them  ; 
bursting  the  limits  of  the  church,  it  would  seek 
the  world.  Every  heart  in  wliich  it  glowed  find- 
ing itself  allied  to  every  other  Christian  heart, 
and  the  w  hole  feeling  themselves  reinforced  with 
the  benevolence  of  Heaven,  would  meditate  the 
1 


32  THE    GOSPEL,    AS    A    SYSTEM, 

conversionof  the  world.  As  often  as  they  ap- 
proached the  throne  of  grace,  they  would  find 
themselves  touching  the  springs  of  universal  and 
almighty  love, — and  would  they  not  yearn  to  be- 
hold these  springs  in  activity  for  the  world  ?  As 
often  as  they  thought  of  that  love  embracing 
themselves,  their  own  love  would  burn  with  ten- 
fold fervor  ;  the  selfishness  of  their  nature  would 
be  consumed,  the  most  enlarged  designs  of  be- 
nevolence would  seem  too  small,  the  most  costly 
sacrifices  too  cheap  ;  they  would  feel  as  if  they 
must  precipitate  themselves  into  some  boundless 
field  of  beneficence  ;  as  if  they  could  only  breathe 
and  act  in  a  sphere  which  knows  no  circumfer- 
ence. As  often  as  they  surveyed  their  infinite 
resources  in  Christ,  and  perceived  that  when  all 
their  own  necessities  were  supplied  those  re- 
sources were  infinite  still,  they  would  naturally 
remember  the  exigencies  of  others  ;  would  feel 
that  they  had  access  to  the  whole,  that  they  might 
instrumentally  impart  of  that  abundance  to  oth- 
ers. The  feast  would  be  prepared,  the  provi- 
sions infinite  ;  and  when  they  were  seated  at  the 
banquet,,  and  contrasted  that  plentitude  of  food 
with  the  fewness  of  the  guests,  they  would  con- 
ceive a  fixed  determination  not  to  cease  inviting 
till  all  the  world  should  be  sitting  with  them  at 
the  feast  of  salvation.  The  name  they  were  to 
bear  would  perpetually  remind  them  of  him  from 
whom  they  had  derived  it ;  and  would  it  be  pos- 
sible for  them  to  have  their  minds  inhabited  by 
the  glorious  idea  of  Christ  without  receiving  cor- 
responding impressions  of  greatness  ? — It  would 


OPPOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  33 

be  associated  in  their  minds  with  all  things 
great,  beneficent,  godlike,  impelling  them  to  im- 
itate to  the  utmost  his  diffusive  goodness.  But 
not  only  their  namc^  from  him  they  would  have 
derived  their  nature ;  by  necessity  of  nature, 
therefore,  they  would  pant  to  behold  universal 
happiness.  Not  only  would  they  feel  that  every 
accession  to  their  number  was  an  increase  of 
their  happiness ;  as  long  as  the  least  portion  of 
the  world  remained  unblessed,  and  unsaved,  they 
would  feel  that  their  happiness  was  incomplete. 
Nothing  less  than  the  salvation  of  the  whole 
world  would  be  regarded  by  them  as  the  com- 
plement of  their  number,  the  fulfilment  of  their 
office,  the  consummation  of  their  joy. 

Thus  the  Christian  church,  like  the  leaven  hid 
in  the  meal,  was  to  pervade  and  assimilate  the 
entire  mass  of  humanity.  At  first,  it  would  re- 
semble an  impcrium  in  impcriOy  a  dominion  of 
love  flourishing  amidst  arid  wastes  of  selfishness  ; 
but,  extending  on  all  sides  its  peaceful  conquests, 
it  would  be  seen  transforming  and  encompassing 
the  world.  Combining  and  concentrating  all 
the  elements  of  moral  power,  it  would  move  only 
to  conquer,  and  conquer  only  to  increase  the 
means  of  conquest.  It  would  behold  its  foes 
converted  into  friends;  and  then,  assigning  to 
each  an  appropriate  station  of  duty,  would  bid 
him  forthwith  go  and  try  upon  others  the  power 
of  that  principle  which  had  subdued  his  own  op- 
position— the  omnipotent  power  of  love.  Thus 
thawing,  and  turning  into  its  own  substance,  the 
icy  selfishness  of  humanity,  the  great  principle 


34  THE    GOSPEL,    AS    A    SYSTEM, 

of  benevolence  would  flow  through  tlie  world 
with  all  the  majesty  of  a  river,  widening  and 
deepening  at  every  point  of  its  progress  by  llie 
accession  of  a  thousand  streams,  till  it  covered 
the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.  Tiiey 
who,  under  the  reign  of  selfishness,  had  souglit 
to  contract  the  circle  of  happiness  around  them 
till  they  had  reduced  it  to  their  own  little  centre, 
under  the  benign  and  expansive  influence  of  the 
gospel,  would  not  only  seek  to  enlarge  that  circle 
to  embrace  the  world,  but  to  multiply  and  diffuse 
themselves  in  happiness  to  its  utmost  circum- 
ference. Feeling  that  good  is  indivisible  ;  that 
to  be  enjoyed  in  perfection  by  one,  it  must  be 
shared  and  possessed  by  all,  they  would  labor 
till  all  the  race  were  blended  in  a  family  com- 
pact, and  were  partaking  together  the  rich  bless- 
ings of  salvation;  till,  by  their  instrumentality, 
the  hand  of  Christ  had  carried  a  golden  chain  of 
love  around  the  world,  binding  the  whole  togeth- 
er, and  all  to  the  throne  of  God. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  entire  economy  of 
salvation  is  constructed  on  the  principle  of  re- 
storing to  the  world  the  lost  spirit  of  love :  this 
is  its  boast  and  glory.  Its  advent  was  an  era  in 
the  universe.  It  was  bringing  to  a  trial  the  rel- 
ative strength  of  love  and  hatred ; — the  darling 
principle  of  heaven,  and  the  great  principle  of  all 
revolt  and  sin.  It  was  confronting  selfishness  in 
its  own  native  region,  with  a  system  of  benevo- 
lence prepared,  as  its  avowed  antagonist,  by  the 
hand  of  God  itself  So  that,  unless  we  would 
impugn  the   skill  and  power  of  its  Author,  we 


OPPOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  35 

must  suppose  that  it  was  studiously  adapted  for 
the  lofty  encounter.  With  this  conviction,  there- 
fore, we  should  have  been  justified  in  saying,  had 
we  been  placed  in  a  situation  to  say  it,  "  Nothing 
but  the  treachery  of  its  professed  friends  can  de- 
feat it :  if  they  attempt  a  compromise  with  the 
spirit  of  selfishness,  there  is  every  thing  to  be 
feared  ;  but  let  the  heavenly  system  be  worked 
fairly,  and  there  is  every  thing  to  be  expected, — 
its  triumph  is  certain." 

But  has  its  object  been  realised  1  More  than 
eighteen  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  it 
was  brought  into  operation, — has  its  design  suc- 
ceeded ?  Succeeded  !  Alas  !  the  question  seems 
a  taunt,  a  mockery.  We  pass,  in  thought,  from 
the  picture  we  have  drawn  of  what  the  gospel 
was  intended  to  effect,  to  the  contemplation  of 
things  as  they  are,  and  the  contrast  appals  us. 
We  lift  our  eyes  from  the  picture,  and,  like  a 
person  awaking  from  a  dream  of  happiness  to 
find  the  cup  of  wretchedness  in  his  hand,  the 
pleasing  vision  has  fled.  Selfishness  is  every- 
where rife  and  rampant. 

But  why  is  it  thus  ?  why  has  the  gospel  been 
liitherto  threatened  with  the  failure  of  a  mere 
liuinan  experiment  1  When  first  put  into  activi- 
ty did  it  dicover  any  want  of  adaptation  to  its 
professed  purpose  ?  The  recollection  that  God 
is  its  author,  forbids  the  thought.  It  is  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  and  the  poicer  of  God.  But  be- 
sides this,  as  if  to  anticipate  the  question,  and  to 
suggest  the  only  reply, — as  if  in  all  ages  to  agi- 
tate an  inquiry  int6  the  apparent  inefficacy  of 
4- 


36  THE    GOSPEL,    AS   A    SYSTEM, 

the  gospel,  and  to  flash  conviction  in  the  face  of 
the  church  as  often  as  the  question  is  raised, 
when  first  the  gospel  commeiiced  its  career,  it  tri- 
umphed in  every  place.  No  form  of  selfishness 
could  stand  before  it.  It  went  forth  conquer- 
ing and  to  conquer.  "  And  all  that  believed 
were  together,  and  had  all  things  common  ;  and 
sold  their  possessions  and  goods,  and  parted  them 
to  all  men,  as  every  man  had  need."  They  went 
every  where,  preaching  the  gospel.  They  felt 
that  they  held  in  their  hands  the  bread  of  life  for 
a  famishing  world,  and  they  "  could  not  but" 
break  and  dispense  it.  The  love  of  Christ  con- 
strained them.  As  if  his  last  command  were 
constantly  sounding  in  their  ears,  they  burned 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature.  They 
felt  the  dignity  and  glory  of  their  position,  that 
they  were  constituted  trustees  for  the  world  ; 
executors  of  a  Savior  who  had  bequeathed  hap- 
piness to  man  ;  guardians  of  the  most  sacred 
lights  in  the  universe.  In  the  execution  of  their 
godlike  trust,  death  confronted  them  at  every 
step  :  persecution,  armed,  brought  out  all  its  ap- 
paratus of  terror  and  torture,  and  planted  itself 
full  in  their  path :  but  none  of  these  things 
moved  them ;  they  scarcely  saw  them  ;  they 
went  on  prosecuting  their  lofty  task  of  making 
the  world  happy,  for  they  were  actuated  by  a 
love  stronger  than  death.  The  world  was  taken 
by  surprise, — never  before  had  it  beheld  such 
men, — every  thing  gave  way  before  them, — city 
after  city,  and  province  after  province,  capitu- 
lated,— yet  the  whole  secret  of  their  i)ower  was 


OPPOSED    TO    SELFISHNESS.  37 

love.  Diversified  as  they  were  in  mind,  country, 
condition,  age — one  interest  prevailed  ;  one  sub- 
ject of  emulation  swallowed  up  every  other — 
wliich  should  do  most  for  the  enlargement  of  the 
reign  of  love.  A  fire  had  been  kindled  in  the 
earth,  which  consumed  the  selfishness  of  men 
wherever  it  came. 


SECTION   V 


SELFISHNESS,  THE  SIN  OF  THE  WORLD,  HAS  LONG  SINCE  BECOME 
THE  SIN   OF   THE   CHURCH. 

Again,  then,    we   repeat  the  momentous  in- 
quiry,— and  we  would  repeat  it  slowly,  solemnly, 
and  with  a  desire  to  receive  the   full  impression 
of  the  only  answer  whicH  can  be  given  to  it; — 
what  has  prevented  the  gospel  from  fulfilling  its 
first   promise,    and    completely   taking   effect? 
what  has  hindered  it  from  filling  every    heart, 
every  province,  the  whole  world,  the  entire  mass 
of  humanity,    with  the  one  spirit   of  divine  be- 
nevolence ?  why,  on  the  contrary,  has  the  gos- 
pel, the  great   instrument  of  divine  love,  been 
threatened,  age  after  age,  with  failure  1     Ozving, 
soldi/,  to  the  treachery  of  tJiosc   icJio   have   had 
the  administraiion  of  it ;  owing,  entirely,  to  the 
selfishness  of  the  church.     No  element  essential 
to  success  has  been  left  out  of  its  arrangements  ; 
all  those  elements  have  always  been  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  church  ;  no  new  form  of  evil  has 
arisen  in  the  world;  no  antagonist  has  appeared 


SELFISHNESS,    THE    SIN    OF    THE    CHURCH.     39 

there  which  the  gospel  did  not  encounter  and 
subdue  in  its  first  onset  ;  yet,  at  this  advanced 
stage  of  its  existence,  when  it  oujrht  to  be  repos- 
ing from  the  conquest  of  the  world,  the  church 
listens  to  an  account  of  its  early  triumph,  as  if 
they  were  meant  only  for  wonder,  and  not  for 
imitation  ;  as  if  they  partook  too  much  of  the 
romance  of  benevolence  to  be  again  attempted  ; 
— now,  when  it  ought  to  be  holding  the  world 
in  fee,  it  is  barely  occupying  a  few  scattered 
])rovii)ces,  as  if  by  sufferance,  and  has  to  begin 
its  conflicts  again.  And,  we  repeat,  the  only 
adequate  explanation  of  this  appalling  fact  is, 
that  selfishness,  the  sin  of  the  world,  has  become 
the  jn'cvailing  sin  of  the  church. 

Uhis  statement,  indeed,  may,  at  first  sight,  ap- 
pear inconsistent  with  the  truth,  that  the  church 
is  the  only  depository  and  instrument  of  divine 
benevolence.  But  to  reconcile  the  two,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  remember  that  every  component 
part  of  that  church,  each  Christian  heart,  taken 
individually,  is  only  an  epitome  of  the  state  of 
the  world — partially  sanctified,  and  partially 
depraved — containing  in  it,  indeed,  a  divine 
principle  of  renovation,  and  a  principle  which  is 
destined  finally  to  triumph,  but  which  has,  mean- 
while, to  maintain  its  ground  by  perpetual  con- 
flict, and,  at  times,  to  struggle  even  for  existence. 
While  viewed  collectively,  the  church  may  be 
legarded  in  the  light  of  a  vast  hospital,  filled 
with  those  who  are  all,  indeed,  under  cure,  but 
who  have  all  to  complain  of  the  inveteracy  of 
their  disease,  and  of  the  consequent  slowness  of 


40      SELFISHNESS,    THE    SIN    OF    THE    WORLD. 

the  healing  process.  It  depends,  therefore,  o'^ 
the  degree  to  which  they  avail  themselves  of  the 
means  of  recovery,  whether  or  not  they  shall 
become  active  and  instrumental  in  the  recovery 
of  their  perishing  fellow-men.  And  the  charge 
alleged  against  them,  is,  that  they  have  not  aban- 
doned themselves  to  the  divine  specific,  the  great 
remedy  of  the  gospel ;  in  consequence  of  which, 
they  continue  to  labor  all  their  life-time  under 
the  disqualifying  effects  of  their  original  disease, 
and  their  healing  instrumentality  is  entirely  lost 
to  the  diseased  and  dying  world.  Selfishness, 
the  disease  of  the  world^  is  the  prevailing  malady 
of  the  church. 

It  would  be  easy  and  interesting  to  trace  the 
steps  of  that  awful  transition  by  which  the  church 
passed  from  the  ardor  of  its  first  love,  to  the  cold 
selfishness  which  it  afterwards  exhibited.  View- 
ed in  its  primitive  state,  it  appears  a  flaming 
sacrifice,  offering  itself  up  in  the  fires  of  a  self- 
consuming  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  the  world. 
But  viewed  again  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  centu- 
ries— how  changed  the  spectacle  ! — it  is  offering 
up  that  very  world  to  its  own  selfishness  !  Its 
own  fires  are  burnt  out ;  and  it  is  seen  kindling 
the  strange  fires  of  another  sacrifice  ;  devoting 
and  presenting  the  world  as  a  victim  at  its  vari- 
ous shrines  of  wealth,  and  pride,  and  power. 
From  being  an  image  of  the  divine  disinterested- 
ness and  love,  extorting  the  admiration  of  the 
world,  and  winning  men  to  an  imitation  of  its 
benevolence,  it  passed  through  the  various  stages 
of  spiritual  declension,  calculating  consequences, 


SELFISHNESS,  THE  SIN  OF  THE  CHURCH.         41 

growing  indifferent  to  its  peculiar  duties,  turning 
its  influence  into  worldly  channels,  subordinating 
every  tiling  sacred  to  worldly  greatness  and  gain, 
till  it  had  become  a  monstrous  personification  of 
an  all-grasping  selfishness,  from  which  the  world 
itself  might  derive  hints  and  lessons  on  the  art  of 
self-aggrandizement,  but  derive  them  in  vain  for 
its  own  escape. 

Instead,  however,  of  enlarging  on  the  early  op- 
erations of  selfishness,  it  will  be  more  relevant 
to  the  design  before  us  to  show  the  fact  and 
mode  of  its  operation  in  the  church  at  present. 
For  long  and  triumphant  as  its  reign  has  been, 
its  days  are  numbered.  The  gospel  is  not  to 
sustain  a  final  defeat.  The  church  of  Christ  is 
yet  to  realise  the  glorious  intentions  of  its  Heav- 
enly Founder — to  re-fill  the  world  with  love. 
Its  failure  hitherto  is  only  to  be  regarded  in  the 
light  of  a  severe,  indeed,  but  temporary  reverse. 
Its  final  victory  is  not  contingent.  The  past  has, 
at  least,  demonstrated  its  vitality;  the  present  is 
evincing  its  elasticity;  the  future  shall  bear  wit- 
ness to  its  triumphs,  so  that  in  aiming  to  indicate 
the  movements  and  operations  of  its  great  antag- 
onist, selfishness,  we  feel  that  wc  are  contribut- 
ing, in  however  humble  a  degree,  to  retrieve  its 
lost  honors,  and  to  point  it  the  way  to  victory. 


SECTION    VI 


THE   FORMS   OF   SELFISHNESS   IN   THE    CHURCH. 

Of  selfishness  it  may  be  said,  as  of  its  arche- 
type. Satan,  that  it  "takes  all  shapes  that  serve 
its  dark  designs."  One  of  the  most  frequent 
forms  in  which  it  appears  is  that  of  ])arty  spirit ; 
and  which,  for  the  sake  of  distinction,  may  be 
denominated  the  selfishness  of  the  sect.  Circum- 
stances, perhaps,  inevitable  to  humanity  in  its 
present  probationary  state,  have  distributed  the 
Christian  church  into  sections  ;  but  as  the  points 
of  difference,  which  have  divided  it,  are, /or  the 
most  part,  of  much  less  importance  than  the  vital 
points  in  which  these  sections  agree,  there  is 
nothing  in  the  nature  of  such  differences  to  ne- 
cessitate more  than  circumstantial  division  :  there 
is  every  thing  in  their  principles  of  agreement 
to  produce  and  perpetuate  substantial  oneness, 
and  cordial  love.  But  this  the  demon  of  selfish- 
ness forbids.  It  erects  the  points  of  difference 
into  tests  of  piety.  It  resents  any  real,  dignity 
otiered  by  the  world  to  the  entire  church,  far  less 


FORMS    OF    SELFISHNESS    IN    THE    CHURCH.        43 

than  it  resents  any  supjiosed  insult  ofi'ered  by 
other  .sections  of  the  church  to  its  own  party. 
Tile  general  welfare  is  nothing  in  its  eye,  com- 
pared with  its  own  particular  aggrandizement. 
When  Christians  should  have  been  making  com- 
mon cause  against  the  world,  selfishness  is  call- 
ing on  its  followers  to  arm,  and,  turning  each 
section  of  the  church  into  a  battlemented  for- 
tress, frowns  defiance  on  all  the  rest.  It  is  blind 
to  the  fact,  that  God,  meanwhile  is  employing 
them  all,  and  smiling  upon  them  all;  or,  if 
compelled  to  behold  it,  eyeing  it  askance  with 
a  feeling  which  prevents  it  from  rejoicing  in 
their  joy.  When  the  church  should  have  been 
spending  its  energies  for  the  good  of  man,  de- 
voting its  passions  like  so  much  consecrated 
fuel,  for  offering  up  the  great  sacrifice  of  love 
which  God  is  waiting  to  receive,  it  is  wasting 
its  feelings  in  the  fire  of  unholy  contention,  till 
that  fire  has  almost  become  its  native  element. 
And  thus  Christianity  is  made  to  present  to  the 
eye  of  an  indiscriminating  world,  the  unamiable\ 
and  paradoxical  spectacle  of  a  system  which  has  \ 
the  power  of  attracting  all  classes  to  itself,  but  '^ 
of  repelling  them  all  from  each  other — forget- 
ting, that  in  the  former  they  see  Christianity 
triumphing  over  selfishness,  and  in  the  latter 
selfishness  defeating  Christianity. 

Bigotry  is  another  of  the  forms  in  which  an 
inordinate  self-love  delights — the  selfishness  of 
the  creed.  In  this  capacity,  as  in  the  former,  its 
element  is  to  show  division  where  nothing  should 
be  seen  but  union  among  the  members  of  the 
5 


44  THE    FORMS   OF    SELFISHNESS 

family  of  Christ.  The  great  scheme  of  mercy 
originated  in  a  love  which  consented  to  overlook 
the  enmity  and  tierce  rebellion  of  its  objects,  or 
rather,  which  looked  on  that  enmity  only  to  pity 
and  provide  for  its  removal  ;  but  those  who  pro- 
fess to  have  been  the  objects  of  that  love,  will 
not  allow  each  other  the  liberty  of  the  sliglitest 
conscientious  difierence,  without  resenting  that 
difference  as  as  a  personal  and  meditated  atiront ; 
as  if  the  natural  enmity  of  their  hearts  against 
God  had  only  changed  its  direction,  and  had 
found  its  legitimate  objects  in  his  people.  Under 
a  pretence  of  zeal  for  God,  bigotry  violates  the 
sanctuary  of  conscience,  and  creates  an  inquisi- 
tion in  the  midst  of  the  church.  Erecting  its 
own  creed  into  a  standard  of  universal  belief,  it 
would  fain  call  down  fire  from  heaven,  or  kindle 
a  furnace  seven  times  hotter  than  an  ordinary 
anger  would  demand,  for  all  who  presume  to 
question  its  infalliblity :  —  thus  justifying  the 
world  in  representing  the  odium  theologicum  as 
a  concentration  of  all  that  is  fierce,  bitter,  and 
destructive,  in  the  human  heart.  The  Lord  they 
profess  to  obey,  would  have  them  to  embrace 
with  a  comprehensive  affection  all  who  exhibit 
the  least  traces  of  his  image ;  but  the  strongest 
traits,  the  most  marked  conformity  to  his  like- 
ness, is  a  very  uncertain  introduction  to  their 
hearts  compared  with  a  likeness  of  creed. 

Nearly  akin  to  this  is,  what,  for  the  sake  of 
convenience,  may  be  denominated  the  selfishness 
of  the  pulpit ;  that  fearful  spirit  which  presumes 
to   limit   what  God  meant  to  be  universal — the 


IN  THE  CHURCH,  45 

overtures  of  redemption  to  a  ruined  world.  Self- 
isliness,  indeed,  in  this  repulsive  form,  is  of 
comparjitively  limited  existence  ;  and  as  if  by  a 
judicial  arraug^ement  of  providence,  it  is  com- 
monly, in  our  day,  associated  with  errors  and 
tempers  so  unamiahle  that  its  own  nature  forbids 
it  to  become  general.  It  daringly  undertakes  to 
"number  Israel;"  to  determine  not  only  that 
few  will  be  saved,  but  who  that  few  will  be. 
Its  ministers,  faithful  to  their  creed,  stand  before 
the  cross,  and  hide  it,  lest  men  should  see  it 
who  are  not  entitled  or  intended  to  behold  it  ; — 
a  danger  which  they  jealously  avoid,  a  respon- 
sibility they  would  tremble  to  incur.  The  j^ospel 
charters  redemption  to  the  world, — but  they 
have  heard  that  there  are  divine  decrees;  and 
until  they  can  logically  reconcile  their  views  of 
the  divine  inflexd)ility  with  the  universality  of 
the  divine  compassion,  the  charter  must  stand 
over,  and  souls  perish  unwept;  and  the  gospel 
of  Christ,  God's  great  gift,  the  adequate  image 
of  the  infinitude  of  his  love,  be  branded  with  tlie 
stigma  of  exclusiveness.  Put  the  aflairs  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  into  their  hands, — and,  under 
the  affectation  of  a  pious  dread  of  contravening 
the  sovereign  purposes  of  God,  or  of  forestalling 
his  appointed  time, — they  would  forthwith  call 
home  the  agents  of  mercy  in  distant  lands,  break 
up  the  institutions,  and  stop  the  whole  machinery 
of  Christian  benevolence.  In  the  midst  of  a 
famishing  world,  they  would  establish  a  monopoly 
of  the  bread  of  life;  and,  though  assailed  on  all 
sides  by  the  cries  of  a  race  in  the  pains  of  death, 


46  THE    FORMS    OF    SELFISHNESS 

would  not  cease  to  exchange  smiles  radiant  with 
self-complacency  while  continuing  to  cater  to 
their  own  pampered  appetites.  "  Lord,  lay  not 
this  sin  to  their  charge."  "  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  They 
know  not  that  they  are  perverting  that  which 
was  meant  to  be  the  destruction  of  selfishness, 
into  its  very  aliment  and  nurse  ;  they  know  not, 
that,  next  to  the  destruction  of  the  gospel,  they 
could  not  furnish  Satan  with  a  greater  triumph 
than  thus  to  silence  its  inviting  voice,  and  to  sup- 
press the  agencies  of  its  disciples.  It  is  to  arrest 
the  course  of  the  angel  having  the  everlasting 
gospel,  and  flying  through  the  midst  of  heaven, 
and  to  confine  him  to  their  own  contracted  hori- 
zon ;  to  demonstrate  that  nothing  is  too  mon- 
strous to  be  apprehended  from  our  nature  when 
its  selfish  tendencies  are  the  materials  employed, 
since  it  can  construct  a  system  out  of  the  gospel 
itself,  whose  most  appropriate  title  would  be 
"  Christianity  made  selfishness." 

The  scIJisJmess  of  the  peiv,  is  another  form  of 
the  same  pervading  evil ;  incomparably  less  per- 
nicious, indeed,  than  the  last  mentioned,  but  far 
more  extensive  in  its  existence.  This  is  that 
modification  of  selfish  piety  which  lives  only  to 
he personcdly  comforted ;  which,  in  ail  its  reading 
and  hearing,  makes  its  own  individual  comfort, 
not  a  means,  but  an  end;  and  which,  in  pursuit 
of  that  end,  goes  up  and  down  in  this  world,  cry- 
ing, *'  Give,  give,  and  is  never  satisfied."  The 
divine  Redeemer  describes  the  faithful  shepherd 
as  leaving  the  ninety  and  nine  sheep  for  a  time, 


IX  THE   CHURCH.  47 

to  traverse  the  wilderness  in  quest  of  the  one 
wanderer.  But  this  unlovely  spirit,  reversing  the 
touching  picture,  would  have  him  neglect  ninety 
and  nine  wanderers  to  attend  exclusively  to  one 
folded  sheep.  An  epicure  in  comfort,  it  is  im- 
patient if  the  cup  of  consolation  be  removed 
from  its  lips  for  a  moment,  though  that  moment 
was  only  seized  to  say  to  a  famishing  multitude, 
"  Come  now,  for  all  things  are  ready."  Devout 
only  in  little  things,  it  cannot  bear  to  have  its 
mind  diverted  from  its  own  personal  and  partic- 
ular state,  even  though  the  sight  to  which  its  at- 
tention is  called  is  the  want  of  a  world.  It  will 
consent  to  listen  just  once  a  year  to  the  claims 
of  the  perishing  heathen  ;  but  it  feels  as  if  more 
than  that  were  too  much,  were  pressing  the  sub- 
ject unnecessarily  on  its  attention.  The  ampli- 
tude of  the  divine  love  seeks  to  comprehend  the 
universe  in  its  large  and  life-giving  embrace,  and 
calls  on  our  affections  to  arise  and  follow  it  in 
its  vast  diffusion  ;  but  this  selfishness  stays  at 
home,  builds  itself  in,  sees  no  glory  in  that 
love,  but  as  it  embraces  a  single  point,  and  that 
point  itself 

Consistent  with  itself,  this  same  spirit,  if  fol- 
lowed from  public  into  private,  is  found  to  be- 
come the  srljishness  of  the  closet.  It  penetrates 
oven  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  there,  where,  if 
any  where,  a  man  should  give  himself  up  to  what 
IS  godlike,  there,  where  he  should  go  to  engage 
an  almighty  agency  in  the  behalf  of  his  race,  it 
banishes  from  his  thoughts  every  interest  but  his 
own,  rendering  him  a  suppliant  for  himself 
5* 


48  THE   FORMS  OF   SELFISHNESS 

alone.  It  makes  him  as  exclusively  intent  on 
his  own  individual  advantage,  as  if  spiritual,  like 
worldly  good,  could  not  be  shared  by  others 
without  diminishing  the  portion  to  be  enjoyed  by 
himself. 

Let  us  place  ourselves,  in  imagination,  near 
to  the  throne  of  God, — and  what  do  we  behold  ? 
— a  number  of  needy  suppliants  returning  daily 
to  his  throne,  a  large  proportion  of  whom  are  as 
unmindful  of  each  other  as  if  each  came  from  a 
different  world,  and  represented  a  distinct  race 
of  beings ;  as  completely  absorbed  in  their  re- 
spective interests  as  if  the  welfare  of  the  species 
depended  on  their  individual  success.  There, 
where  each  should  think  of  all,  and  feel  himself 
blended  with  the  great  whole,  he  virtually  dis- 
owns kindred  with  all,  deserts  the  common  in- 
terest, and  strives  for  himself  alone.  They  come 
and  lay  their  hand  upon  the  springs  of  an  agen- 
cy, which,  if  put  in  motion,  would  diffuse  happi- 
ness through  the  Vvorld ;  but  they  leave  that 
agency  unsolicited  and  unmoved.  The  blessed 
God  calls  them  into  his  presence,  partly  that 
they  might  catch  the  radiance  of  his  throne,  and 
transmit  it  to  a  world  immeised  in  the  shadow  of 
death ;  but,  provided  they  catch  a  ray  of  that 
light  for  themselves,  the  gloom  of  the  world  may 
remain  unrelieved.  He  points  out  the  infinity 
of  their  resources  in  himself,  gives  them  access 
to  more  than  they  need  for  themselves,  in  order 
that  they  may  go  and  instrumentally  administer 
to  the  wants  of  others.  He  calls  them  to  his 
throne  as  a  royal  priesthood,  as  intercessors  for 


IN  THE  CIIURni.  49 

tlie  race;  but  instead  of  imploring  the  divine  at- 
tention to  the  wants  of  the  world,  each  of  them 
virtually  calls  it  off  from  every  other  object,  to 
consecrate  it  upon  a  unit,  and  that  unit  himself. 
He  has  so  laid  his  vast  and  gracious  plans,  that 
he  can  be  enjoyed  fully,  only  in  communion,  in 
the  great  assembly  of  heaven  ;  but,  in  contraven- 
tion of  these  plans,  each  one  seeks  to  contract 
for  himself  separately  with  God,  as  if  he  would 
fain  engross  to  himself  the  whole  of  the  divine 
goodness.  What  an  affecting  view  is  this  of 
the  power  of  selfishness,  and  of  the  infinite  pa- 
tience of  God  in  bearing  with  it. 

But  the  form  under  which  this  Protean  evil 
works  more  insidiously  and  extensively,  perhaps, 
than  in  any  which  have  been  specified,  is  that  of 
a  worldly  spirit; — we  will  venture  to  call  it  ^^e 
selfishness  of  the  purse. 

It  was  the  design  of  Christ  in  redeeming  and 
saving  his  people  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself,  to 
convince  them  that  his  interest  and  theirs  were 
identical ; — that  he  and  they  were  one  ; — that  to 
enjoy  any  prosperity  distinct  from  the  prosperity 
and  glory  of  his  kingdom  was  impossible.  And 
by  further  proposing  to  employ  their  instrumen- 
tality for  the  enlargement  of  his  kingdom,  he  in- 
tended to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  evincing 
their  love  to  his  name,  and  of  consecrating  all 
the  means  they  could  abstract  from  the  neces- 
sary demands  of  time,  to  the  great  cause  of  sal- 
vation. It  was  only  warrantable  to  expect,  that 
the  exhibition  of  his  love,  and  the  claims  of  his 
kingdom,    coming   with    full    force    upon    their 


50  THE  FORMS  OF  SELFISHNESS 

hearts,  would  over\yhelm  all  worldly  considera- 
tions ;  that  they  would  bring  forth  their  wealth, 
and  present  it  with  the  ardent  devotion  of  an  of- 
fering; that  henceforth  they  would  desire  to 
prosper  in  the  world  only  that  they  might  have 
the  more  to  lay  at  his  feet;  that  they  would  in- 
stantly devise  a  plan  of  self-denial,  each  one 
for  himself,  the  object  of  which  should  be  to  aug- 
ment, to  the  utmost,  their  contributions  to  his 
cause  ;  that  nothing  but  the  fruits  of  such  ^elf- 
denial  would  be  dignified  with  the  name  of 
Christian  charity  ;  and  that  the  absence  of  such 
self-denial  and  the  consequent  fruits  of  it,  would 
be  regarded  as  a  forfeiture  of  the  Christian  name  ; 
that  the  church,  as  "  the  bride,  the  Lamb's 
wife,"  would  feel  that  she  had,  that  she  could 
have,  no  interest  apart  from  his — that  all  her 
worldly  possessions  belonged  to  him,  and  that 
she  would  gratefully  and  cheerfully  surrender 
them  to  him,  wishing  that,  for  his  dear  sake, 
they  had  been  ten  thousand-fold  more. 

To  ask  if  such  is  the  conduct  of  the  Christian 
church  would  be  worse  than  triflmg.  "  All  seek 
their  own,  not  the  things  which  are  Jesus 
Christ's."  As  if  their  interest  and  his  were 
two,  separate,  opposite,  irreconcilable  things  ; 
or,  as  if  they  had  never  heard  of  the  grace,  the 
claims,  or  even  the  name  of  Christ,  the  great 
majority  of  Christian  professors  may  be  seen, 
from  age  to  age,  pursuing  their  own  ends  as  ea- 
gerly, and  wasting  their  substance  as  selfishly, 
as  the  world  around  them. 

They   seek  their   worldly   prosperity.     They 


IN  THE  CHURCH. 


51 


know  of  nothinr^  equal  to  thai.  Every  thing  is 
made  to  give  way  to  that.  The  cause  of  Christ 
itself  must  wait  for  that,  and  is  only  lield  secon- 
dary to  it.  What  !  neglect  any  thing  which 
tends  to  increase  their  gains  ! — they  would  deem 
themselves  mad  to  think  of  it;  even  though  the 
salvation  of  an  immortal  soul  had  to  wait  in  con- 
sequence. And  thus,  while  God  has  to  com- 
plain of  them  as  slothful  and  unfaithful  in  his 
service,  Mammon  can  hoast  of  them  as  among 
his  most  diligent  and  devoted  servants. 

They  seek  their  worldly  ease  and  enjoyment. 
Self,  self,  is  the  idol  to  wiiich  they  are  perpetu- 
ally sacrificing ;  the  monster,  whose  ravenous 
appetite  they  are  perpetually  feasting,  and  which 
eats  up  nearly  all  they  have.  So  great  is  the 
cost  of  dressing  and  decorating  this  idol,  of  serv- 
ing and  feasting  it,  of  consulting  its  voracious 
appetites,  and  ministering  to  its  various  gratifi- 
cations, that  but  little  is  left  for  the  cause  of 
Christ.  It  is  a  "  soul-wasting  monster,  that  is 
fed  and  sustained  at  a  dearer  rate,  and  with 
more  costly  sacrifices  and  repasts,  than  can  be 
parallejed  by  either  sacred  or  other  history  ; 
that  hath  made  more  desolation  in  the  souls  of 
men  than  ever  was  made  in  their  towns  and 
cities  where  idols  were  served  with  only  human 
sacrifices,  or  monstrous  creatures  satiated  only 
with  such  food  ;  or  where  the  lives  and  safety  of 
the  majority  were  to  be  purchased  by  the  con- 
stant tribute  of  the  blood  of  not  a  few  !  that  hath 
devoured   more  and  preyed    more   cruelly  upon 


52 


THE  FORMS  OF  SELFISHNESS 


human  lives,  than  Moloch,  or  the  Minotaur  !  "  * 
Self,  is  Dives  in  the  mansion,  clothed  in  purple, 
and  faring  sumptuously  every  day  ; — the  cause  of 
Christ,  is  Lazarus,  lying  at  his  gate,  and  fed  only 
with  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  his  table. 

These  are  some  of  the  leading  forms  of  that 
demon  of  selfishness,  whose  name  is  Legion, 
and  which,  in  every  age,  has  been  the  great  an- 
tagonist of  the  gospel,  threatening,  at  times, 
even  to  drive  the  principle  of  benevolence  from 
the  world.  What  but  this  is  it  which  keeps  the 
piety  of  the  individual  professor  joyless  to  him- 
self?— which  renders  many  a  congregation  of 
professing  Christians  a  company  of  inactive  use- 
less men,  assembling  merely  for  their  own  reli- 
gious ends,  and  separating  only  to  pursue  their 
own  worldlly  ends,  as  regardless  of  the  welfare  of 
others,  as  if  none  but  themselves  inhabited  the 
earth  1 — which  turns  the  several  denominations  of 
which  the  Christian  church  is  composed,  into  so 
many  sources  of  mutual  disquietude  and  weak- 
ness ? — and  which  makes  that  church  the  scorn 
of  an  infidel  world,  instead  of  its  boast  and  glory  ? 
It  has  defrauded  millions  of  the  offer  of  eternal 
life  : — and  what  but  selfishness  is,  at  this  moment, 
defrauding  God  of  his  glory,  long  since  due  ? 
and  the  church  of  its  promised  prosperity  ?  and 
the  world  of  the  redemptiotj  provided  for  it? 
Well  has  self  been  denominated  the  great  Anti- 
christ; for,  thoui^rh  it  may  not  be  the  antichrist 
of  prophecy  which  is  to  appear  in  the  latter  day, 

*  Howe. 


IN  THE  CHURCH. 


53 


it  is  the  antichrist  of  every  day  and  every  age  ; 
the  great  usurper  of  the  rights  of  Christ,  the 
great  antagonist  and  obstacle  to  his  universal 
reign.  "  For  all  seek  their  own,  not  the  things 
which  are  Jesus  Christ's." 

That  we  do  not  exaggerate  its  pernicious  pow- 
er, let  it  only  be  supposed  that  selfishness,  in  all 
the  forms  we  have  specified,  has  been  banished 
from  the  church, — and  what  would  ensue  ?  Each 
denomination  of  Christians,  without  sacrificing 
its  distinctive  character,  would  embrace  and  seek 
to  ally  itself  as  closely  with  all  the  rest  as  a 
community  of  interest,  hope  and  affection  could 
bind  it.  Each  creed  would  have  the  necessity 
and  divinity  of  brotherly  love  among  its  primary 
articles — teaching  the  Christian  that  a  heart 
glowing  with  affection  to  "the  brethren,"  exhales 
the  incense  most  acceptable  to  God  ;  that  such 
love  is  God  in  man.  Devotion  no  longer  termi- 
nating in  itself,  would  go  to  God,  and  plead  for 
the  world.  Piety,  no  longer  seeking  after  com- 
fort as  an  end,  would  find  it  without  seeking ; 
find  it  in  the  paths  of  Christian  activity  and  use- 
fulness. Like  the  piety  of  apostolic  times,  it 
would  be  exempted  from  all  the  morbid  com- 
plaints of  a  slothful  religion,  and  would  find  its 
health  and  enjoyment  in  living  to  Christ.  The 
whole  church  would  be  kindled  into  a  sacrificial 
flame  for  his  glory,  into  which  every  Christian 
would  cast  the  savings  of  his  self-denial  as  appro- 
priate fuel  for  feeding  a  flame  so  sacred.  A  love 
which  would  yearn  over  the  whole  human  race  ; 
zeal  which  would   be  constantly  devising  fresh 


54  FORMS  OF  SELFISHNESS  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

methods  of  usefulness,  denying  itself,  and  lay- 
ing itself  out  for  God  ;  and  a  perseverance  which 
would  never  rest  till  the  whole  family  of  man 
should  be  seated  at  the  banquet  of  salvation  ; — 
these  would  be  the  prevailing  features  of  the 
entire  Christian  community.  From  such  a  scene 
the  eternal  Spirit  could  not  be  absent ;  its  very 
existence  would  demonstrate  his  presence.  The 
tabernacle  of  God  would  be  with  men  upon  the 
earth.  God  would  bless  us,  and  all  the  ends  of 
the  earth  would  fear  him. 

Now,  of  all  this,  selfishness  is  defrauding  us. 
It  is  keeping  the  universe  in  suspense.  Like  a 
spring-season  held  back  by  the  chilling  breath  of 
winter,  all  things  are  waiting  for  the  desired 
change  ;  when  the  Christian  church,  bursting 
forth  as  in  the  vernal  beauty  of  its  youth,  shall 
become  another  paradise,  full  of  melody,  in- 
cense, and  joy. 


PART    THE    SECOND. 

COVETOUSNESS. — THE  PRINCIPAL  FORM  OF  SELFISH- 
NESS,— IN  ITS  NATURE,  FORM,  PREVALENCE,  ES- 
PECIALLY IN  BRITAIN,  DISGUISES,  TESTS,  EVILS, 
DOOM,    AND   PLEAS. 


SECTION    I 


THE   NATURE    OF    COVETODSNESS. 

If  selfishness  be  the  prevailino^  form  of  sin, 
covetousness  may  be  regarded  as  the  prevailing 
form  of  selfishness.  This  is  strikingly  intimated 
by  the  apostle  Paul,  when,  describing  the  "peril- 
ous times"  of  the  final  apostacy,  he  represents 
selfishness  as  the  prolific  root  of  all  the  evils 
which  will  then  prevail,  and  covetousness  as  its 
first  fruit.  "For  men  shall  be  lovers  of  their 
own  selves,  covetous." 

In  passing,  therefore,  from  the  preceding  out- 
line of  selfishness  in  general,  to  a  consideration 
of  this  form  of  it  in  particular,  we  feel  that  we 
need  not  labor  to  magnify  its  importance.  A 
very  little  reflection  will  suflnce  to  show  that, 
while  the  other  forms  of  selfishness  are  partial 
in  their  existence,  this  is  universal ;  that  it  lies 
in  our  daily  path,  and  surrounds  us  like  the  at- 
mosphere ;  that  it  exceeds  all  others  in  the 
plausibility  of  its  pretences,  and  the  insidiousness 
of  its  operations  ;  that   it  is,  commonly,  the  last 


58  THE    NATURE    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

forms  of  selfishness  which  leaves  the  heart ;  and 
that  Christians,  who  have  comparatively  escaped 
from  all  the  others  may  still  be  unconsciously 
enslaved  by  this.  If  there  be  ground  to  fear  that 
covetousness  "will,  in  all  probability,  prove  the 
eternal  overthrow  of  more  characters  among  pro- 
fessing people  than  any  other  sin,  because  it  is 
almost  the  only  crime  which  can  be  indulged, 
and  a  profession  of  religion  at  the  same  time 
supported  ; "  and  if  it  be  true  also,  that  it  operates 
more  than  any  other  sin  to  hold  the  church  in 
apparent  league  with  the  world,  and  to  defeat  its 
design,  and  to  rob  it  of  its  honors  as  the  instru- 
ment of  the  world's  conversion,  surely  nothing 
more  can  be  necessary  to  reveal  the  ajipalling 
magnitude  of  the  evil,  and  to  justify  every  at- 
tempt that  may  be  made,  to  sound  an  alarm 
against  it. 

Covetousness  denotes  the  state  of  a  mind  from 
which  the  Supreme  Good  has  been  lost,  laboring 
to  replace  him  by  some  subordinate  form  of  en- 
joyment. The  determinate  direction  which  this 
craving  takes  after  money,  is  purely  accidental, 
and  arises  from  the  general  consent  of  society, 
that  money  shall  be  the  representative  of  all 
property,  and,  as  such,  the  key  to  all  the  ave- 
nues of  worldly  enjoyment.  But  as  the  exist- 
ence of  this  conventional  arrangement  renders 
the  possession  of  some  amount  of  property  indis- 
pensable, the  application  of  the  term  covetousness 
has  come  to  be  confined  almost  exclusively  to  an 
inordinate   and  selfish   regard  for  money. 

Our  liablity  to  this  sin  arises,  we  say,  from  the 


THE    NATURE    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  59 

perception  that  "  money  answereth  all  things." 
Riches  in  themselves,  indeed,  are  no  evil.  Nor 
is  the  bare  possession  of  tliem  wrong.  Nor  is 
the  desire  to  possess  them  sinful,  provided  that 
desire  exist  under  certain  restrictions.  For  in 
almost  every  stage  of  civilization  money  is  requi- 
site to  procure  the  conveniences,  and  even  the 
necessaries  of  life  ;  to  desire  it  therefore  as  the 
means  of  life,  is  as  innocent  as  to  live.  In  its 
higher  application  it  may  be  made  the  instru- 
ment of  great  relative  usefulness;  to  seek  it, 
then,  as  the  means  of  doing  good,  is  not  a  vice, 
but  a  virtue.  But,  perceiving  that  money  is  so 
important  an  agent  in  society  ; — that  it  not  only 
fences  off  the  wants  and  woes  of  poverty,  but 
that,  like  a  centre  of  attraction,  it  can  draw  to 
itself  every  object  of  worldly  desire  from  the 
farthest  circumference; — the  temptation  arises 
of  desiring  it  inordinately;  of  even  desiring  it 
for  its  own  sake  ;  of  supposing  that  the  instru- 
ment of  procuring  so  much  jTood  must  itself  pos- 
sess intrinsic  excellence.  From  observing  that 
gold  could  procure  for  us,  whatever  it  touches, 
we  are  tempted  to  wish,  like  the  fabled  king, 
that  whatever  we  touch  might  be  turned  into 
gold. 

But  the  passion  for  money  exists  in  various 
degrees,  and  exhibits  itself  in  very  different  as- 
pects. No  classification  of  its  multiplied  forms, 
indeed,  can,  from  the  nature  of  things,  be  rigor- 
ously exact.  All  its  branches  and  modifications 
run  into  each  other,  and  are  separated  by  grada- 
tions rather  than  by  lines  of  demarcation.  The 
6* 


60  THE    NATURE    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

most  obvious  and  general  distinction,  perhaps,  is 
that  which  divides  it  into  the  desire  of  getting^ 
as  contradistinguished  from  the  desire  of  ^'cepm^ 
that  which  is  already  possessed.  But  each  of 
these  divisions  is  capable  of  subdivision.  World- 
liness,  rapacity,  and  an  ever-craving,  all-con- 
suming prodigality,  may  belong  to  the  one  ;  and 
parsimony,  niggardliness,  and  avarice  to  the 
other.  The  word  covetousness,  however^  is  pop- 
ularly employed  as  synonymous  with  each  of 
these  terms,  and  as  comprehensive  of  them  all. 


SECTION    II. 


FORMS   OF   COVETOUSNESS. 

By  worldlincs^^  we  mean  cupidity  in  its  earli- 
est, most  plausible,  and  most  prevailing  form  : 
not  yet  sutTiciently  developed  to  be  conspicuous 
to  the  eye  of  man,  yet  sufficiently  characteristic 
and  active  to  incur  the  prohibition  of  God.  It 
is  that  quiet  and  ordinary  operation  of  the  prin- 
ciple which  abounds  most  with  excuses  ;  which 
is  seldom  questioned  even  by  the  majority  of  pro- 
fessing Christians  ;  which  the  morality  of  the 
world  allows  and  even  commends ;  which  may 
live,  unrebuked,  through  a  whole  life,  under  the 
decent  garb  of  frugality,  and  honest  industry ; 
and  which  thus  silently  works  the  dstruction  of 
multitudes  without  alarming  them. 

Rapacity  is  covetousness  grasping ;  "  making 
haste  to  be  rich."  This  is  the  true  "  wolf  in  the 
breast,"  ever  feeding,  and  yet  ever  craving ;  so 
ravenous  that  nothing  is  like  it  except  death  and 
the  grave.  It  is  a  passion  which  compels  every 
other  feeling  to  its  aid  ;  the  day  seems  too  short 


62 


FORMS    OP    COVETOUSNESS. 


for  it ;  success  is  looked  on  as  a  reward  and  a 
spur;  failure  as  a  punishment  for  some  relaxa- 
tion of  the  passion  ;  the  weahh  of  others  seems 
to  reproach  it ;  the  poverty  of  others  to  warn  it. 
Determined  to  gratify  itself,  it  overlooks  the 
morality  of  the  means,  despises  alike  the  tardi- 
ness of  industry,  and  the  scruples  of  integrity, 
and  thinks  only  of  the  readiest  way  to  success. 
Impatient  of  delay,  it  scorns  to  wait  for  intima- 
tions of  the  divine  will  or  to  watch  the  move- 
ments of  Povidence;  and  the  only  restraints 
which  it  acknowledges — though  many  of  these 
it  would  gladly  overleap — are  such  as  our  fears 
of  each  other  have  erected  into  laws,  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  confining  it  within  bounds. 

Parsimony  is  covetousness  'parting  with  its 
life-blood.  It  is  the  frugality  of  selfishness  ;  the 
art  of  parting  with  as  little  as  possible.  Of  this 
disposition  it  can  never  be  said  that  it  gives,  but 
only  that  it  capitulates;  its  freest  bestowments 
have  the  air  of  a  surrender  made  with  an  ill 
grace. 

Avarice  is  covetousness  hoarding.  It  is  the 
love  of  money  in  the  abstract,  or,  for  its  own 
sake.  Covetousness,  in  this  monstrous  form, 
indeed,  is  but  of  rare  occurrence.  For  as  money 
is  a  compendium  of  all  kinds  of  worldly  good,  or 
so  much  condensed  world,  it  is  mostly  desired  for 
the  sake  of  the  gratifications  which  it  can  pur- 
chase ;  it  is  sought  and  valued  as  a  kind  of  con- 
centrated essence,  which  can  be  diluted  at  pleas- 
ure, and  adapted  to  the  taste  of  every  one  who 
possesses    it.       But    avarice    is    content    with 


FORMS    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  G3 

the  bare  possession  of  tlie  essence  ;  stopping 
short  at  the  means,  it  is  satisfied  without  tlie  end. 
By  a  strange  infatuation  it  looks  upon  gold  as  its 
own  end  ;  and,  as  the  ornaments  which  the 
Israelites  transferred  into  the  hands  of  Aaron 
became  a  god,  so  gold,  in  the  hands  of  avarice, 
becomes  an  ultimate  good  :  to  speak  of  its  utili- 
ty, or  its  application  to  practical  purposes,  would 
be  almost  felt  as  a  profanation.  Other  vices 
have  a  particular  view  to  enjoyment,  (falsely  so 
called,)  hut  the  very  term  miser  is  a  confession 
of  the  misery  which  attends  avarice;  for,  in  or- 
der to  save  his  gold,  the  miser  robs  himself; 

"  Throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds ; 

First  starved  in  this,  then  damned  in  that  to  come." 

He  cannot  be  said  to  possess  wealth  ;  wealth 
possesses  him  ;  or  else  he  possesses  it  like  a  fever 
which  burns  and  consumes  him  as  if  molten 
gold  were  circulating  in  his  veins.  Many  vices 
wear  out  and  are  abandoned  as  age  and  experi- 
ence increase,  but  avarice  strikes  deeper  root  as 
age  advances  ;  and,  like  the  solitary  tree  of  the 
desert,  flourishes  amidst  sterility  where  nothing 
else  could  survive.  Other  passions  are  parox- 
ysms, and  intermit;  but  avarice  is  a  distemper 
which  knows  no  intervals.  Other  ])assicns  have 
their  times  of  relaxation  ;  but  avarice  is  a  tyrant 
wliich  never  suffers  its  slaves  to  rest.  It  is  the 
fabled  dragon  with  its  golden  fleece,  and  with 
lidless  and  unslumbering  eyes  it  keeps  Avatch 
and  ward  night  and  day. 


64 


FORMS    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


Prodigality^  though  directly  opposed  to  ava- 
rice or  hoarding,  is  quite  compatible  with  cupid- 
ity ;  and  is,  indeed,  so  frequently  found  in 
combination  with  it,  that  it  may  be  regarded  as 
one  of  its  complex  forms.  The  character  which 
Sallust  gives  of  Catiline,  that  "  he  was  covetous 
of  other  men's  wealth,  while  he  squandered  his 
own,"  is  one  of  very  common  occurrence.  And 
we  notice  it  here  to  show,  that  although  men  may 
occasionally  be  heard  pleading  their  extravagance 
to  clear  themselves  from  the  charge  of  cupidity, 
it  yet  originates  in  the  same  cause,  produces  pre- 
cisely the  same  effects,  employs  the  same  sinful 
means  of  gratification,  and  incurs  the  same  doom. 
They  must  be  covetous,  that  they  may  be  prodi- 
gal :  one  hand  must  collect,  that  the  other  may 
have  wherewith  to  scatter:  covetousness,  as  the 
steward  to  prodigality,  must  furnish  supplies,  and 
is  often  goaded  into  rapacity,  that  it  may  raise 
them.  Thus  prodigality  strengthens  covetous- 
ness by  keeping  it  in  constant  activity,  and  cov- 
etousness strengthens  prodigality  by  slavishly 
feeding  its  voracious  appetite.  Taking  possession 
of  the  heart,  "  they  divide  the  man  between  them," 
each  in  turn  becoming  cause  and  effect.  But 
prodigal  self-indulgence  not  only  produces  cupid- 
ity, it  stands  to  every  benevolent  object  in  the 
same  relation  as  avarice — it  has  nothing  to  give. 
A  system  of  extravagant  expenditure  rerjders  be- 
nevolence impossible,  and  keeps  a  man  con- 
stantly poor  towards  God. 


SECTION  III. 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS, 

To  the  charge  of  covetousness,  under  one  or 
other  of  tliese  various  forms,  how  large  a  propor- 
tion of  mankind,  and  even  of  professing  Chris- 
tians, must  plead  guilty  !  It  is  true,  indeed, 
that  all  these  modifications  of  covetousness,  can- 
not co-exist  in  the  same  mind,  for  some  of  them 
are  destructive  of  each  other;  and  such  is  the  anx- 
iety of  men  to  escape  from  the  hateful  charge 
entirely,  that,  finding  they  are  exempt  from  some 
of  its  forms,  they  flatter  themselves  that  they  are 
guiltless  of  all.  But  this  delusion,  in  most  cases, 
indicates  the  mournful  probahility,  that  the  evil, 
besides  having  taken  up  its  abode  within  them, 
has  assunied  there  a  form  and  a  name  so  plausi- 
ble, as  not  merely  to  escape  detection,  but  even 
to  secure  to  itself  the  credit  of  a  virtue,  and  the 
welcome  of  a  friend. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  world,  a  man  may  acquire, 
and  through  along  life  maintain,  a  character  for 
liberality  and  spirit,  while  his  heart  all  the  time 


66      PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 

goeth  after  his  covetousness.  His  hand,  like  a 
channel,  may  be  ever  open  ;  and,  because  his  in- 
come is  perpetually  flowing  through  it,  the  unre- 
flecting world,  taken  with  appearances,  hold 
him  up  as  a  pattern  of  generosity  ;  but  the  entire 
current  is  absorbed  by  his  own  selfishness.  That 
others  are  indirectly  benefited  by  his  profusion, 
does  not  enter  into  his  calculations;  he  thinks 
only  of  his  own  gratification.  It  is  true  his  mode 
of  hving  may  employ  others  ;  but  he  is  the  idol 
of  the  temple — they  are  only  priests  in  his  ser- 
vice ;  and  the  prodigalhy  they  are  empowered 
to  indulge  in,  is  only  intended  to  decorate  and 
do  honor  to  his  altar.  To  maintain  an  extensive 
establishment,  to  carry  it  high  before  the  world, 
to  settle  his  children  respectably  in  life,  to 
maintain  a  system  of  costly  self-indulgence, — 
these  are  the  objects  which  swallow  up  all  his 
gains,  and  keep  him  in  a  constant  fever  of  ill- 
concealed  anxiety ;  filling  his  heart  with  envy 
and  covetousness  at  the  sight  of  others'  prosperi- 
ty ;  rendering  him  loath  to  part  with  a  fraction 
of  his  property  to  benevolent  purposes;  making 
him  feel  as  if  every  farthing  of  his  money  so  em- 
ployed, were  a  diversion  of  that  farthing  from 
the  great  ends  of  life  ;  and  causing  him  even  to 
begrudge  the  hallowed  hours  of  the  Sabbath,  as 
so  much  time  lost  (if,  indeed,  he  allows  it  to  be 
lost)  to  the  cause  of  gain.  New  channels  of  be- 
nevolence may  open  around  him  in  all  direc- 
tions ;  but  as  far  as  he  is  concerned,  those  chan- 
nels must  remain  dry  ;  for,  like  the  sands  of  the 
desert,  he  absorbs  all  the  bounty  which  Heaven 


PREVALENCE    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  67 

rains  on  him,  and  still  craves  for  more.  What 
but  tliis  is  commonly  meant  by  the  expression 
concerning  such  a  man,  that  "he  is  living  up  to 
his  income  1  "  The  undisguised  interpretation 
is,  that  he  is  engrossing  to  himself  all  that  be- 
nevolence which  should  be  diti'used  throughout 
the  world;  that  he  is  appropriating  all  that  por- 
tion of  the  divine  bounty  with  which  he  has  been 
intrusted,  and  which  he  ought  to  share  with  the 
rest  of  mankind  ;  and  that  he  is  thus  disabling 
liimself  for  all  the  calls  and  claims  of  Christian 
charity.  Alas!  that  so  large  a  proportion  of 
professing  Christians  should  be,  at  this  moment, 
sy sternal ically  incapicitating  themselves  for  any 
tiling  more  than  scanty  driblets  of  charity,  by 
their  unnecessary  expenditure,  their  extravagant 
self-indulgence.  Where  avarice,  or  hoarding, 
has  slain  its  thousands,  a  lavish  profusion  has 
slain  its  tens  of  thousands ;  and  where  the 
former  robs  the  cause  of  God  of  a  mite,  the  latter 
robs  it  of  a  inillion. 

A  man  may  defy  a  charge  of  avarice,  in  the 
aggravated  sense  of  that  term,  to  be  substantia- 
ted against  him.  Indeed,  a  miser  in  the  sense 
in  which  the  character  was  ordinarily  portrayed, 
is  a  most  unusual  prodigy,  a  monster  rarely 
found  but  in  description.  "  His  life  is  one  long 
sigh  for  wealth  :  he  would  coin  his  life-blood  into 
gold  :  he  would  sell  his  soul  for  gain."  Now, 
the  injurious  effect  of  such  exaggerated  repre- 
sentations is,  men,  conscious  that  their  parsimo- 
ny does  not  resemble  such  a  character,  ac([uit 
themselves  of  the  charge  of  covetousness  alto- 
7 


68      PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 

gether.  Unable  to  recognise  in  this  disguised 
and  distorted  picture  of  the  vice  their  own  like- 
ness, they  flatter  themselves  into  a  behef  of  their 
entire  innocence,  as  if  the  advice  admitted  of  no 
degrees,  and  none  were  guilty  if  not  as  guilty  as 
possible. 

But,  though  a  man  may  not  merit  to  be  de- 
nominated avaricious,  he  may  yet  be  parsimoni- 
ous. He  may  not  be  a  Dead  Sea,  ever  receiving, 
and  never  imparting;  but  yet  he  may  be  as  un- 
like the  Nile,  when,  overflowing  its  banks,  it 
leaves  a  rich  deposit  on  the  neighboring  lands. 
His  domestic  economy  is  a  system  of  penurious- 
ness,  hateful  to  servants,  visiters,  and  friends; 
from  which  every  thing  generous  has  fled,  and 
in  which  even  every  thing  necessary  comes  with 
the  air  of  being  begrudored,  of  existing  only  by 
sufferance.  In  his  dealing  with  others,  he  seems 
to  act  under  the  impression  that  mankind  have 
conspired  to  defraud  him,  and  the  consequence 
is,  that  his  conduct  often  amounts  to  a  construc- 
tive fraud  on  mankind.  He  is  delighted  at  the 
idea  of  saving,  and  exults  at  the  acquisition  of 
a  little  pelf  with  a  joy  strikingly  disproportionate 
to  its  worth.  He  looks  on  every  thing  given  to 
charity,  as  so  much  lost,  thrown  away,  and  for 
which  there  will  never  be  any  return.  If  a  be- 
nevolent appeal  surprise  him  into  an  act  of  unu- 
sual liberality,  he  takes  ample  revenge  by  keen 
self-reproaches,  and  a  determination  to  steel 
himself  against  all  such  assaults  in  future.  Or 
else,  in  his  relenting  moments,  and  happier 
moods,  he  plumes  himself,  and  looks  as  compla- 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS.      69 

cently  on  himself  for  having  bestowed  a  benevo- 
1(MU  mile,  as  if  he  liad  performed  an  act  of  piety, 
for  which  nothing  less  than  heaven  would  be  an 
adequate  reward.  His  soul  not  only  never  ex- 
pands to  the  warmth  of  benevolence,  but  con- 
tracts at  the  bare  proposal,  the  most  distant  pros- 
pect, of  sacrifice.  His  presence  in  any  society 
met  for  a  charitable  purpose  would  be  fell  like 
the  vicinity  of  an  iceberg,  freezin^r  the  atmos- 
phere, and  repressing  the  warm  and  flowing  cur- 
rent of  benevolence.  The  eloquent  think  it  a 
triumph  to  have  pleaded  tiie  cause  of  mercy  be- 
fore him  unabashed  ;  and  the  benevolent  are 
satisfied  if  they  can  oidy  bring  away  their  sacred 
fire  undamped  from  his  presence.  He  scowls  at 
every  benev(j|ent  project  as  romantic,  as  suited 
to  the  meridian  of  Utopia,  to  a  very  different 
state  of  things  from  what  is  known  in  this 
world.  He  hears  of  the  time  when  the  church 
will  make,  and  will  be  necessitated  to  make, 
far  greater  sacrifices  than  at  present,  with  con- 
scious uneasiness,  or  resolved  incredulity.  His 
life  is  an  economy  of  petty  avarice,  constructed 
on  the  principle  of  partmg  with  as  little  as  pos- 
sible, and  getting  as  much, — a  constant  warfare 
against  benevolence. 

But  a  person  may  be  free  from  the  charge  of 
parsimony,  and  yet  open  to  the  accusation  of 
worldliness.  }Iis  covetousness  may  not  be  so 
determined  as  to  distinguish  him  from  the  mul- 
titude, but  yet  sufficiently  marked  to  show  that 
his  treasure  is  not  in  heaven.  He  was  born 
with  the  world  in  his  heart,  and  nothing  has  yet 


70      PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 

expelled  it.  He  may  regularly  receive  the 
seed  of  the  gospel,  but  the  soil  is  pre-occupied ; 
"  the  cares  of  this  world,  and  the  deceitfulness 
of  riches,  choke  the  word,  and  render  it  un- 
fruitful." He  will  listen  to  an  ordinary  exposi- 
tion of  the  vanity  of  wealth  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  will  appear  to  give  it  his  entire  assent ;  and 
yet,  immediately  after,  he  resumes  his  pursuit 
of  that  i;«m7?/ with  an  avidity  which  seems  in- 
creased by  the  temporary  interruption.  But  let 
the  exposition  be  more  than  usually  vivid,  let  it 
aim  at  awakening  his  conviction  of  the  dangers 
attending  wealth,  let  it  set  forth  the  general  pref- 
erableness  of  competence  to  affluence,  and  it  will 
be  found  to  be  disturbing  the  settled  order  of  his 
sentiments.  A  representation  of  the  snares  of 
wealth,  is  regarded  by  him  as  the  empty  decla- 
mation of  a  man  who  has  been  made  splenetic 
by  disappointments,  or  who  has  been  soured  by 
losses ;  who  has  never  known  the  sweets  of 
wealth,  or,  having  known,  has  lost  them,  and 
would  gladly  recover  them  again  if  he  could. 
He  never  listens  to  such  representations  as — 
that  unsanctified  riches  are  only  the  means  of 
purchasing  disappointment;  that  the  possessor 
suffers  rather  than  enjoys  them;  that  his  wants 
multiply  faster  than  his  means — without  an  in- 
ward smile  of  scepticism,  a  conscious  feeling  of 
incredulity  ;  a  feeling  which,  if  put  into  words, 
would  express  itself  thus:  "  O,  if  I  might  be  but 
made  rich,  I  would  make  myself  happy.  Tell 
me  not  of  dangers  :  cheerfully  would  I  risk  them 
all,  only  bless  me  with  wealth."     And  his  life  is 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSxNESS.      71 

arranged,  and  spent,  in  strict  accordance  with 
this  cotires>ion.  In  liis  vocabulary,  wealth  means 
happiness — the  chief  good.  And  in  his  reading 
of  the  Holy  Scripture,  the  declaration  of  our 
Lord  is  reversed,  as  if  lie  l:ad  said — A  man's 
life  consisteth  in  the  abundance  of  the  things 
which  he  possesseth. 

And  this  representation,  be  it  observed,  applies 
to  the  man  whose  ideas  of  ueahh  are  limited  to 
a  few  liundreds,  as  much  as  to  him  whose  wishes 
aspire  to  hundreds  of  thousands.  The  poor  man 
is  apt  to  imagine  that  covetousness  is  a  subject 
in  which  he  has  no  interest — that  it  is  a  sin  pe- 
culiar to  the  rich.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  he 
may  not  plan  for  riches,  because  he  may  not  be 
able  to  plan  much  for  any  thing  ;  calculation  is 
out  of  its  s|)here — it  requires  too  much  thought 
for  him.  And  it  is  true,  also,  that  the  prosper- 
ous are  more  liable  to  indulge  cupidity  than  the 
poor  ;  for  if  it  cannot  be  said  with  confidence  that 
poverty  starves  the  propensity,  it  may  certainly 
be  affirmed  that  prosperity  feeds  it;  often  awak- 
ening it  at  first  from  its  dormant  state,  and  turn- 
ing every  subsequent  instance  of  gain  into  a  meal 
to  gratify  its  voracious  appetite. 

But  there  is  no  sphere  so  humble  and  contract- 
ed as  to  secure  a  man  against  its  intrusion.  Like 
a  certain  class  of  plants,  it  seems  only  to  ask 
for  room,  though  it  should  be  on  a  rock,  and  for 
the  common  air,  in  order  to  thrive.  The  man 
who  Hatters  himself  that  he  has  "  retired  from 
the  world,"  may  still  be  carrying  this  abridge- 
ment of  the  world's  influence  about  with   him  in 


72      PREVALENCE  OP  COVETOUSNESS. 

his  heart ;  and  by  artfully  soliciting  the  poor 
man  under  the  disguise  of  industry,  of  frugality, 
or  of  providing  for  his  family,  it  may  have  yoked 
him  as  a  captive  to  its  car,  though  he  may  ap- 
pear to  be  only  keeping  poverty  at  bay.  He 
need  not  plunge  into  the  ocean  in  order  to  drown 
himself — a  very  shallow  stream  will  suffice,  if  he 
chooses  to  lie  prostrate  in  it ;  and  the  desire  of 
the  smallest  gain,  if  his  heart  be  immersed  in 
the  pursuit,  will  as  certainly  **  drown  him  in  per- 
dition," as  if  the  object  of  his  cupidity  were  the 
wealth  of  a  Croesus.  He  takes  his  character, 
and  incurs  his  danger,  not  from  the  magnitude 
of  his  object,  but  from  the  unceasing  and  undi- 
vided manner  in  which  he  pursues  it.  Though 
his  worldliness  may  be  quiet  and  equable  in  its 
operation,  yet,  like  an  ever-flowing  stream,  it 
gradually  wears  his  whole  soul  into  one  channel, 
which  drains  off  his  thoughts  and  affections  from 
higher  ground,  and  carries  them  all  in  a  steady 
current  in  that  single  direction  ;  while  his  occa- 
sional impressions  of  a  religious  nature  only 
ripple  its  surface  for  a  moment,  and  vanish, 
without  in  the  least  retarding  its  onward  course. 
But  to  specify  all  the  forms  of  covetousness, 
and  to  trace  it  in  all  its  modifications,  is  impos- 
sible. Capable  of  combining  with  all  motives, 
and  penetrating  all  actions  in  its  symptoms  or 
its  practice  it  is  every  where  to  be  found.  It 
acknowledges  no  conqueror  but  the  grace  of 
God,  and  owns  no  limit  but  that  of  the  world. 
Our  great  epic  poet,  with  equal  sublimity  and 
propriety,  gives  to   it  an  existence  even  beyond 


PREVALENCE    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  /O 

this  world.  Recording  the  history  of  Mammon 
— the  Scripture  personification  of  cupidity — he 
describes  him  as 

"  the  least  erected  spirit  that  fell 
From  heav^en :  for  even  in  heaven  his  looks  and  thoughts 
Were  always  downward  bent;  admiring  more 
The  riches  of  heaven's  pavement,  trodden  gold, 
Than  aught  divine  or  holy  else,  enjoyed 
hi  vision  beatific." 

The  moral  of  which  is,  that  covetousness  is  one 
of  the  eldest-born  of  sin,  and  a  prime  leader  in 
the  satanic  empire  of  evil ;  that  no  nature  is  too 
lofty,  no  i)lace  too  sacred,  for  its  presence  ;  that 
being  a  universal  passion,  no  enterprise  is  too 
daring  for  it  to  attempt,  no  sphere  too  extended 
for  its  range. 

One  of  tlie  great  objects  of  the  personal  min- 
istry of  our  Lord  himself,  appears  to  have  been 
to  make  us  aware  of  the  universality  of  this  pas- 
sion, and  to  save  us  from  it.  Sin  having  expelled 
the  love  of  God  from  the  heart,  he  saw  that  the 
love  of  the  world  had  rushed  in  to  fill  up  the  va- 
cuum ;  that  the  desire  of  riches,  as  an  abstract 
of  all  otherworldly  desires  has  become  a  uni- 
versal passion,  in  which  all  other  appetites  and 
passions  concur,  since  it  is  the  readiest  means 
to  gratify  them  all.  To  the  eye  of  an  ordinary 
observer,  the  generation  of  that  day  appeared  to 
be  only  laudably  employed  in  their  respective 
avocations  ;  but,  penetrating  the  thin  disguises 
of  custom,  he  beheld  the  world  converted  into  a 
mart  in  which  every  thing  was  exposed  for  sale. 


74 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 


To  a  common  observer,  the  confused  pursuits 
and  complicated  passions  of  mankind  might  have 
presented  an  aspect  of  ever-shifting  forms,  as  in- 
capable of  classification  as  the  waves  of  the  sea  ; 
but  to  his  comprehensive  view  there  appeared  but 
two  great  classes,  in  which  all  minor  distinctions 
were  merged — the  servants  of  God,  and  the  ser- 
vants of  Mammon.  To  his  unerring  and  om,- 
uiscient  glance,  the  whole  world  appeared  to  be 
engrossed  in  a  laborious  experiment  to  effect  a 
compromise  between  these  two  claimants  :  but 
against  such  an  accommodation  he  enters  his  di- 
vine protest;  affirming,  with  the  solemnity  and 
confidence  of  one  who  knew  that  though  the  ex- 
periment had  been  made,  and  repeated  in  every 
form  and  in  every  age,  it  had  failed  as  often  as 
it  had  been  made,  and  will  prove  eternally  im- 
practicabie.  *'  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mam- 
mon." To  an  ordinary  observer,  the  charge  of 
covetousness  could  only  be  alleged  against  a  few 
individuals;  but  he  tracked  it  through  the  most 
unsuspected  windings,  laid  open  some  of  its  most 
concealed  operations,  and  showed  that,  like  the 
elemental  fire,  it  is  not  only  present  where  it 
is  grossly  visible,  but  that  it  is  all-pervading, 
and  co-extensive  with  human  depravity. 

Entering  the  mart  of  the  busy  world,  where 
nothing  is  heard  but  the  monotonous  hum  of  the 
traders  in  vanity,  he  lifts  up  his  voice  like  the 
trump  of  God,  and  seeks  to  break  the  spell  which 
infatuates  them,  while  he  exclaims,  "  What  shall 
it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and 
Jose  his  own  soul  ?  or,  what  shall  a  man  give  in 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS.       /5 

exchange  for  his  soul  ?  "  Proceeding  to  the 
mansion  of  Dives,  he  shows  selfishness  there, 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  faring 
sumptuously  every  day, — a  spectacle  at  which 
the  multitude  stands  in  earnest  and  admiring 
gaze,  as  if  it  drew  in  happiness  at  the  sight, — 
but  Lazarus  unheeded  perishes  at  the  gate. 
Approaching  the  house  of  prosperity,  he  bids  us 
listen  to  the  soliloquy  of  its  wordly  inhabitant, 
"  I  will  pull  down  my  barns,  and  will  build 
greater " — a  resolution  which  the  world  ap- 
plauds— "And  I  will  say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  ;  take 
thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  " — a  pros- 
pect of  happiness  which  the  world  envies:  but 
God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts  ;  besides  his  wealth 
he  knows  no  god.  Passing  into  the  circle  of 
devotion,  he  pointed  out  the  principle  of  covet- 
ousness  there,  mingling  in  the  worship  of  God, 
choking  the  word,  and  rendering  it  unfruitful. 
Penetrating  the  heart,  he  unveiled  its  hateful 
])resence  there,  as  the  leaven  of  hypocrisy,  and 
the  seed  of  theft. 

And  can  we  wonder  at  the  energy  and  fre- 
quency with  which  he  denounced  it,  when  we 
remember  how  frecjuently  it  came  into  direct  per- 
sonal contact  with  liimself,  defeating  his  tender- 
est  solicitudes,  and  robbing  him  of  souls  he 
yearned  to  save  ?  It  was  covetousness  which 
rendered  unfruitful  so  largo  a  proportion  of  that 
heavenly  seed  which  he  had  come  to  sow.  It 
was  this  which  begrudged  him  the  anointing  for 
his  burial.     It  was  this  which  robbed  his   king- 


76 


PREVALENCE    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


dom  of  a  subject,  just  at  the  moment  when  "  the 
young  man  "  appeared  to  be  about  to  fall  into 
his  train,  and  wisich  drew  from  him  the  affect- 
ing exclamation,  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that 
have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  " 
This  it  was  which  left  the  gospel  feast  so  thinly 
attended,  and  which  sent  excuses  instead  of 
guests.  His  audience  commonly  consisted  of 
"the  Pharisees  who  were  covetous,  and  derided 
him."  Wherever  he  looked,  he  beheld  the  prin- 
ciple in  active,  manifold,  ruinous  operation  ; 
"devouring  widows'  houses,"  drinking  orphans' 
tears,  luxuriating  in  the  spoils  of  defenceless 
childhood  and  innocence.  Did  he  turn  from  this 
sickening  spectacle,  and  seek  relief  in  the  tem- 
ple ?  there  he  beheld  nothing  but  a  den  of  thieves. 
Mammon  was  there  enshrined  ;  the  solemn  pass- 
over  itself  turned  into  gain  ;  the  priests  traffick- 
ing in  the  blood  of  human  souls.  Like  their 
forefathers,  "  from  the  least  of  them  even  to  the 
greatest  of  them,  every  one  was  given  to  covet- 
ousness." 

But  the  last  triumph  of  covetousness  remained 
yet  to  be  achieved.  To  have  sold  the  temple  for 
money  would  have  been  an  act  of  daring  impie- 
ty ;  to  make  it  the  place  of  merchandise  was, 
perhaps,  still  worse — it  was  adding  sacrilege  to 
impiety.  Only  one  deed  more  remained  to  be 
perpetrated,  and  covetousness  might  then  rest 
satisfied.  There  was  one  greater  than  the  tem- 
ple. God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  had  sent 
his  only  begotten  Son  to  redeem  it — might  not  he 
be  sold  1     Covetousness,  in  the  person  of  Judas, 


PREVALENCE     OF     COVETOUSNESS.  "77 

looked  on  liim,  eyed  him  askance,  and  went  to 
the  traffickers  in  blood,  and,  for  the  charm  of 
thirty  pieces  of  silver,  betrayed  him, — a  type 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  cause  of  mercy 
would  be  betrayed  in  every  succeeding  age. 
Yes,  in  the  conduct  of  Judas,  the  incarnation 
of  cupidity,  towards  Jesus  Christ,  the  incarna- 
tion of  benevolence,  we  may  behold  an  intima- 
tion of  the  quarter  from  which,  in  all  succeed- 
ing times,  the  greatest  danger  would  arise  to 
the  cause  of  Christ.  The  scene  of  the  Savior's 
betrayal  for  money  was  an  affecting  rehearsal, 
a  prophetic  warning,  of  the  treatment  which 
his  gospel  might  expect  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
Atul  have  events  falsified  the  prediction  ? 
Let  the  history  of  the  corruptions  of  Christianity 
testify.  The  spirit  of  gain  deserted  the  Jewish 
temple,  only  to  take  up  its  abode  in  the  Chris- 
tian church.  Having  sold  the  Savior  to  the 
cross,  it  proceeded,  in  a  sense,  to  sell  the  cross 
itself.  We  allude  not  to  the  venality  of  selling 
"  the  wood  of  the  true  cross," — that  was  only  a 
diminutive  of  that  accursed  lust  of  gain  which 
"  thouoht  the  gift  of  God  might  be  purchased 
with  money,"  and  which  literally  placed  the 
great  blessinirsof  the  cross  at  sale.  Gradually, 
every  thing  became  a  source  of  gain.  Not  a 
single  innovation,  or  rite,  was  introduced,  which 
had  not  a  relation  to  gain.  Nations  were  laid 
under  tribute.  Every  shrine  had  its  gifts;  eve- 
ry confession  its  cost ;  every  prayer  its  charge  ; 
every  benediction  its  price.  Dispensation  fiom 
duty  and  indulgence    in   sin,  were   both  attain- 


78  PREVALENCE    OF     COVETOUSNESS. 

able  at  the  sum  set  down,  Liberation  from  hell, 
and  admission  into  heaven,  were  both  subject  to 
money.  And,  not  content  with  following  its 
victims  into  the  invisible  state,  Covetousness 
even  there  created  a  third  world,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  assessing  its  tortured  inhabitants.  Thus 
the  religion  whose  blessings  were  intended  to  be 
without  money,  and  without  price,  became  the 
tax  and  burden  of  the  world,  a  proverb  for  ex- 
tortion and  rapine,  till  the  wealth  which  the 
church  had  drained  from  a  thousand  states, 
**  turned  to  poison  in  its  bosom,"  and  mankind 
arose  to  cast  it  from  them  as  a  bloated  corruption 
and  a  curse. 

The  truth  is,  covetousness  is  native  to  our 
fallen  nature;  and,  unless  religion  vanquish  it, 
in  its  indiscriminate  ravages,  it  will  vanquish 
religion.  Other  forms  of  selfishness  are  partial 
to  their  operation,  being  either  confined  to  a 
party,  or,  at  most,  to  an  order  of  character;  but 
covetousness  is  the  sin  of  humanity  ;  it  is  the 
name  of  a  disease  which  knows  no  distinction 
of  class  or  party — the  epidemic  malady  of  our 
race. 

Gold  is  the  only  power  which  receives  uni- 
versal homage.  It  is  worshipped  in  all  lands 
without  a  single  temple,  and  by  all  classes 
without  a  single  hypocrite  ;  and  often  has  it 
been  able  to  boast  of  having  armies  for  its 
priesthood,  and  hecatombs  of  human  victims 
for  its  sacrifices.  Where  war  has  slain  its 
thousands,  gain  has  slaughtered  its  millions ; 
for,  while   the   former  operates  only   with  the 


PREVALENCE  OF  COVETOUSNESS.      79 

local  and  fitful  terrors  of  an  earthquake,  the 
destructive  influence  of  the  latter  is  universal 
and  unceasing.  Indeed,  war  itself — what  has 
it  often  been  but  the  art  of  gain  practised  on 
the  largest  scale?  the  covetousness  of  a  nation 
resolved  on  gain,  impatient  of  delay,  and  lead- 
ing on  its  subjects  to  deeds  of  rapine  and  blood? 
Its  history  is  the  history  of  slavery  and  op- 
pression, in  all  ages.  For  centuries,  Africa — 
one  quarter  of  the  globe — has  been  set  apart 
to  supply  the  monster  with  victims — thousands 
at  a  meal.  And  at  this  moment,  what  a  popu- 
lous and  gigantic  empire  can  it  boast !  the 
mine  with  its  unnatural  drudgery;  the  manu- 
factory, with  its  forms  of  squalid  misery;  the 
plantation,  with  its  imbruted  gangs ;  and  the 
market  and  the  exchange,  with  their  furrowed 
and  care-worn  countenances, — these  are  only 
specimens  of  its  more  menial  offices  and  sub- 
jects. Titles  and  honors  are  among  its  re- 
wards, and  thrones  at  its  disj^osal.  Among  its 
counsellors  are  kings,  and  many  of  the  great 
and  n)ighty  of  the  earth  enrolled  among  its 
subjects.  Where  are  the  waters  not  ploughed 
by  its  navies  ?  What  imperial  element  is  not 
yoked  to  its  car  ?  Philosophy  itself  has  be- 
come a  mercenary  in  its  pay  ;  and  science,  a 
votary  at  its  shrine,  brings  all  its  noblest  dis- 
coveries, as  offerings  to  its  feet.  What  part 
of  the  globe's  surface  is  not  rapidly  yielding  up 
its  last  stores  of  hidden  treasure  to  the  spirit 
of  gain?  or  retains  more  than  a  few  miles 
8 


80  PREVALExNCE  OF   COVETOUSNESS. 

of  unexplored  and  unvanquished  territory  1 
Scorning  the  childish  dream  of  the  philoso- 
pher's stone,  it  aspires  to  turn  the  globe  itself 
into  gold. 


SECTION    IV 


THE    PRESENT    PREDOMINANCE    OF    COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN. 

This  is  a  subject  in  which  the  Christians  of 
Britain  have  more  than  an  ordinary  interest. 
For,  though  no  part  of  the  world  is  exempt  from 
the  inHuence  of  covetousnesis,  a  commercial  na- 
tion, like  Britain,  is  more  liable  to  its  debasement 
than  any  other.  Were  it  not  indii^^enous  to  the 
human  heart,  here  it  would  surely  have  been 
born  ;  for  here  are  assembled  all  the  fermenting 
elements,  favorable  to  its  spontaneous  genera- 
tion :  or,  were  it  to  be  driven  from  every  other 
land,  liere  it  would  find  sanctuary  in  a  thousand 
places  open  to  receive  it.  Not  only  does  it  exist 
among  us,  it  is  honored,  worshipped,  deified. 
Alas!  it  has — without  a  figure — its  priests;  its 
aj)propriate  temples — earthly  "hells;"  its  cer- 
emonial ;  its  ever-burning  fires,  fed  with  precious 
things  which  ought  to  be  offered  as  incense  to 
God  ;   and,  for  its  sacrifices,  immortal  souls. 

Every  nation  lias  its  idol  :  in  some  countries 
that  idol  is  pleasure  ;  in  others,  glory  ;  in  others, 


82  THE     PRESENT    PREDOMINANCE    OF 

liberty;  but  the  name  of  our  idol  is  mammon. 
The  shrines  of  the  others,  indeed,  are  not  neg- 
lected, but  it  must  be  conceded  that  money  is  the 
mightiest  of  all  our  idol-gods. 

And  not  only  does  this  fact  distinguish  us 
from  most  other  nations,  it  distinguishes  our 
present  from  our  former  selves — it  is  the  brand- 
mark  of  the  present  age.  For,  if  it  be  true,  that 
each  successive  age  has  its  representative — that 
it  beholds  itself  reflected  in  some  leading  school, 
and  impresses  its  image  on  the  philosophy  of  the 
day,  where  shall  we  look  for  the  image  of  the 
existing  age  but  in  our  systems  of  political  econ- 
omy 7  "Men  who  w^ould  formerly  have  devoted 
their  lives  to  a  metaphysical  and  moral  research, 
are  now  given  up  to  a  more  material  study  " — to 
the  theory  of  rents,  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
mart.  Morality  itself  is  allowed  to  employ  no 
standard  but  that  of  utility — to  enforce  her  re- 
quirements by  no  plea  but  expediency,  a  consid- 
eration of  profit  and  loss.  And  even  the  science 
of  metaphysics  is  wavering,  if  it  has  not  actual- 
ly pronounced,  in  favor  of  a  materialism  which 
would  subject  the  great  mysteries  of  humanity 
to  mathematical  admeasurement,  and  chemical 
analysis.  Mammon  is  marching  through  the 
land  in  triumph  ;  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  a 
large  majority  of  all  classes  have  devoted  and 
degraded  themselves  to  the  office  of  his  train- 
bearers. 

Statements  like  these  may  startle  the  reader 
who  now  reflects  on  the  subject  for  the  first  time. 
But  let  him  be  assured  "  as  the   first  impression 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  83 

which  the  foreigner  receives  on  entering  England 
is  that  of  the  evidence  of  weahh,  so  the  first 
thing  which  strikes  an  inquirer  into  our  social 
system  is  the  absorbing  respect  in  which  wealth 
is  held.  The  root  of  all  our  laws  is  to  be  found 
in  the  sentiment  of  property ;  "  and  this  senti- 
ment, right  in  itself,  has,  by  excess,  infected 
with  an  all-pervading  taint,  our  politics,  our  sys- 
tems of  education,  the  distribution  of  honors,  the 
popular  notions — nay,  it  has  penetrated  our  lan- 
guage, and  even  intruded  into  the  sacred  enclo- 
sures of  religion.  This  is  a  truth,  obvious,  not 
merely  to  the  foreigner  to  whom  it  is  a  compara- 
tive novelty,  the  taint  is  acknowledged  and  de- 
plored even  by  those  who  have  become  acclima- 
ted and  inured  to  it.  Not  merely  does  the  divine 
protest  against  it ;  *  the  man  of  the  world  joins 
him  ;  for  it  is  felt  to  be  a  common  cause.  The 
legislator  complains  that  governments  are  getting 
to  be  little  better  than  political  establishments  to 
furnish  facilities  for  the  accumulation  of  wealth. 
The  philanthropist  complains  that  generous  mo- 
tives are  lost  sight  of  in  the  prevailing  desire  of 
gain;  so  that  he  who  evinces  a  disposition  to 
disinterested  benevolence  is  either  distrusted  as 
a  hypocrite,  or  derided  as  a  fool.     The  moralist 

*  IRs  complaint  must  be  thought  professional.  In  this 
section,  therefore  the  writer  has  had  recourse  to  authori- 
ties which  some  may  co\\s\t\ev  oi greater  weight.  His  quo- 
tations are  derived  principally  from  Coleridge's  Lay  Ser- 
mons, Bulwer's  England  and  the  English,  and  from  the 
two  leading  Reviews. 
8* 


84     THE  PRESENT  PREDOMINANCE  OF 

complains  that  '*  commerce  has  kindled  in  the 
nation  a  universal  emulation  for  wealth,  and  that 
money  receives  all  the  honors  which  are  the 
proper  right  of  knowledge  and  virtue."  The 
candidate  for  worldly  advancement  and  honor 
protests  against  the  arrangement  which  makes 
promotion  a  matter  of  purchase,  thus  disparaging 
and  discouraging  all  worth  save  that  of  wealth. 
The  poet  laments  that  "  the  world  is  too  much 
with  us  ;  "  that  *'  all  things  are  sold  ;  "  that  every 
thing  is  made  a  marketable  commodity,  and 
"  labelled  with  its  price."  The  student  of  men- 
tal and  moral  philosophy  laments  that  his  favor- 
ite "  sciences  are  falling  into  decay,  while  the 
physical  are  engrossing,  every  day,  more  respect 
and  attention  ;  "  that  the  "  worship  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  good  has  given  place  to  a  calculation 
of  the  profitable ;  "  that  "  every  work  which  can 
be  made  use  of  to  immediate  profit,  every  work 
which  falls  in  with  the  desire  of  acquiring  wealth 
suddenly,  is  sure  of  an  appropriate  circulation  ;  " 
that  we  have  been  led  to  "  estimate  the  w^orth 
of  all  pursuits  and  attainments  by  their  market- 
able value." 

To  the  same  unhallowed  spirit  of  gain  is  to 
be  traced  that  fierce  "  competition  "  of  which 
the  laborer,  the  artisan,  the  dealer,  the  manu- 
facturer, and  even  the  members  of  all  the  liberal 
professions,  alike  complain.  That  competition, 
under  certain  limits,  is  necessary  to  the  activity 
and  healthy  condition  of  ihe  social  economy,  is 
not  to  be  denied.  But  when  it  rises  to  a  strug- 
gle in  which    neither  time  nor  strength  is  left 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  H5 

for  higher  pursuits ;  in  which  every  new  com- 
petitor is  looked  on  in  the  light  of  an  enemy ; 
in  which  every  personal  exertion,  and  practica- 
ble retrenchment,  in  the  mode  of  conducting 
business,  do  but  barely  leave  a  subsistence, — 
there  must  be  something  essentially  wrong  in 
our  ruling  spirit,  or  social  constitution.  True, 
the  fact  that  the  evil  exists  may  palliate  the  con- 
duct of  the  Christian,  who,  in  mere  self-defence, 
and  without  his  own  seeking,  finds  himself  com- 
pelled by  circumstances  to  engage  in  the  rivalry 
and  turmoil.  Such  a  man  is  an  object,  not  of 
blame,  but  of  pity.  But  how  small  the  number 
of  those  who  are  not  actually  augmenting  the 
evil,  either  by  a  sumptuous  style  of  living,  which 
absorbs  the  entire  profits  of  business  as  fast  as 
they  accrue,  and  which  even  anticipates  them ; 
or  else  by  a  morbid  and  exorbitant  craving  after 
something  new,  by  which  the  ingenuity  and  ap- 
plication of  men  of  business  are  kept  constantly 
taxed,  and  competition  is  almost  converted  into 
hostility  !  Our  present  concern,  however,  is  not 
with  the  cause,  but  with  the  fact.  And  on  all 
hands  it  is  admitted,  that  the  way  in  which  busi- 
ness is  now  conducted,  involves  all  the  risk, 
uncertainly,  and  unnatural  excitement  of  a  game 
of  chance. 

Nor  is  the  strife  of  fashion  less  apparent  than 
the  struggle  of  business.  Each  class  of  the 
community,  in  succession,  is  pressing  on  that 
which  is  immediately  before  it.  Many  of  those 
engaged  in  the  rivalry  are  supporting  themselves 
by  temporary  expedients ;  concealing  their  real 


Ob  THE  PRESENT    PREDOMINANCE    OF 

poverty  by  occasional  extravagance  and  display. 
Take  the  following  description  of  the  fact,  from 
an  eminent  Christian  moralist,  whose  position  in 
society  enabled  him  to  judge  correctly,  and  on  a 
a  large  scale: — "  Others, ....  a  numerous  class 
in  our  days,  attach  themselves  to  the  pomps  and 
vanities  of  life.  Magnificent  houses,  grand 
equipages,  numerous  retinues,  splendid  enter- 
tainrrients,  high  and  fashionable  connexions,  ap- 
pear to  constitute,  in  their  estimation,  the  su- 
preme happiness  of  life.  Persons  to  whose  rank 
and  station  these  indulgencies  most  properly  be- 
long, often  are  the  most  indifferent  to  them. 
Undue  solicitude  about  them  is  more  visible  in 
persons  of  inferior  conditions  and  smaller  for- 
tunes ;  in  whom  it  is  detected  by  the  studious 
contrivances  of  a  misapplied  ingenuity,  to  recon- 
cile parade  with  economy,  and  to  glitter  at  a 
cheap  rate.  There  is  an  evident  effort  and  strug- 
gle to  excel  in  the  particulars  here  in  question  ; 
a  manifest  wish  to  rival  superiors  ;  to  outstrip 
equals,  and  to  dazzle  inferiors."  *  The  truth  of 
this  picture,  it  is  to  be  feared,  has  been  daily 
increasing,  ever  since  it  was  drawn. 

A  spirit  of  extravagance  and  display  naturally 
seeks  for  resources  in  daring  pecuniary  specula- 
tions. Industry  is  too  slow  and  plodding  for  it. 
Accordingly,  this  is  the  age  of  reckless  adven- 
ture. The  spirit  of  the  lottery  is  still  upon  us. 
"  Sink  or  swim,"  is  the  motto  of  numbers  who 
are  ready  to  stake  their  fortune  on  a  speculation; 

*  Wilberforce  on  Practical  Chrisiianily. 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  87 

and  evil  indeed  must  be  that  project,  and  peril- 
ous in  the  extreme  must  be  that  scheme,  which 
tiiey  would  hesitate  to  adopt,  if  it  held  out  the 
remotest  prospect  of  gain. 

Tlie  writer  is  quite  aware,  and  free  to  admit, 
that  we  are,  from  circumstances — and  long 
may  be — an  active,  iudustrious,  trading  people. 
Much  of  our  distinctive  greatness  as  a  nation 
is  owing  to  this  fact.  Nor  is  he  insensible  to 
the  numerous  claims  of  the  present  age  to  be 
called  the  age  of  benevolence.  Both  these  facts, 
however,  he  regards  as  quite  compatible  with 
his  present  allegations.  For  the  truth  appears 
to  be,  that,  much  as  the  benevolence  of  the  age 
has  increased  the  spirit  of  trade  has  increased 
still  more  ;  that  it  has  far  outstript  the  spirit  of 
benevolence  ;  so  that,  while  the  spirit  of  benev- 
olence has  increased  ahsolutcli/,  yet  relatively  it 
may  be  said  to  have  declined,  toliave  lost  ground 
to  the  spirit  of  trade,  and  to  be  tainted  and  op- 
pressed by  its  influence.  How  large  a  propor- 
tion of  what  is  cast  into  the  Christian  treasury 
must  l)e  regarded  merely  as  a  kind  of  quit-rent 
paid  to  the  cause  of  benevolence  by  the  spirit  of 
trade,  that  it  might  be  left  free  to  devote  itself 
to  the  absorbing  claims  of  the  world.  How 
small  a  proportion  of  it  is  subtracted  from  the 
vanities  and  indulgencics  of  life  ;  how  very  little 
of  it  results  from  a  settled  plan  of  benevolence, 
or  from  that  self-denial,  without  which,  on 
Ciiristian  principles,  there  is  no  benevolence. 
Never,  perhaps,  was  self-denial  a  rarer  virtue 
than  in  the  present  age. 


0»  THE    PRESENT   PREDOMINANCE     OP 

Again  :  what  is  the  testimony  of  those  in 
our  most  popular  schools  who  educate  our 
youth? — that  "there  is  a  prevailing  indifference 
to  that  class  of  sciences,  the  knowledge  of  which 
is  not  profitable  to  the  possessor  in  a  pecuniary 
point  of  view," — that  the  only  learning  in  request 
is  that  which  teaches  the  art  of  making  money. 
The  man  of  ancestral  rank  complains,  that 
even  respect  for  birth  is  yielding  to  the  mer- 
cenary claim  of  riches.  Such  is  the  all-trans- 
forming power  of  cupidity,  that  business  the 
most  oppressive  is  pursued  with  all  the  zest  of 
an  amusement,  while  amusement,  intended  to  be 
a  discharge  from  business,is  laboriously  cultivated 
by  thousands  as  a  soil  for  profitable  speculation 
and  golden  fruit.  Perhaps  the  greatest  triumph 
which  the  lust  of  lucre  has  achieved,  next  to  its 
presence  in  the  temple  of  God,  is  the  effectual 
manner  in  which  it  has  converted  the  principal 
amusements  of  the  nation  into  so  vast  and  com- 
plicated a  system  of  gambling,  that,  to  master 
it,  demands  all  the  studious  application  of  a 
profound  science.  Looking  at  the  universal  in- 
fluence which  wealth  has  obtained  over  every 
institution,  and  every  grade  of  the  social  system, 
what  more  is  wanting  to  induce  the  many  to  be- 
lieve, as  sober  truth,  the  ironical  definition  of  the 
satirist,  that "  Worth  means  wealth — and  wisdom, 
the  art  of  acquiring  it  1 ' ' 

"  Whatever  men  are  taught  highly  to  respect, 
gradually  acquires  the  rank  of  a  virtue."  Well, 
therefore,  has  it  been  said,  by  a  master  of  philos- 
ophy, that  "the  honors  of  a  state,  direct  the 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  n\f 

esteem  of  a  people  ;  and  that,  according  to  the 
esteem  of  a  people,  is  the  general  direction  of 
mental  energy  and  genius."  The  consequence 
ofafhxingthe  highest  worldly  rewards  to  wealth, 
is,  that  to  be  ricli,  is  accounted  a  merit,  and  to 
be  poor  an  offence.  Nor  is  this  the  worst  :  a 
false  standard  of  morality  is  thus  created,  by 
which  it  is  made  of  less  consequence  to  be  wise 
and  virtuous,  than  to   be  rich. 

The  appalling  degree  to  which  such  a  stand- 
ard has  obtained  among  us  may  be  inferred 
from  the  manner  in  which  it  has  imprinted 
itself  on  our  language.  It  is  true  that  many  of 
the  terms  and  phrases  alluded  to,  may  some- 
times be  employed  with  an  exclusive  reference 
to  property,  and  quite  irrespective  of  moral 
worth.  They  are,  however,  idioms  of  the  lan- 
guage, and  as  such  would  soon  give  rise  to  the 
debasing  associations  in  question,  even  if  those 
associations  did  not  exist  before.  But  the 
tones  in  which  they  are  commonly  uttered,  and 
the  emotions  of  admiration  or  contempt  with 
which  they  are  accompanied,  abundantly  testify 
that  such  associations  already  exist.  Justly 
has  a  foreign  writer  observed,  for  instance,  that 
"  the  supreme  influence  of  wealth,  in  this 
country,  may  be  judged  of  by  the  simple  phrase, 
that  a  man  is  said  to  be  worth  so  jnuch," — 
worth  just  so  much  as  his  money  amounts  to, 
and  no  more.  "  Poor  creature  !  "  is  an  ex- 
clamation as  frequently  uttered  to  express  con- 
tempt as  pity,  and  may  indicate  that  the  object 
of  it,  unites  in  himself  all  kinds  of  wretchedness, 


90     THE  PRESENT  PREDOMINANCE  OF 

and  many  degrees  of  guilt.  How  constantly  are 
individuals  and  families  pronounced  respectable 
— that  is  the  favorite  pass- word  into  society — 
when,  if  reference  were  had  to  their  character, 
to  any  thing  but  their  wealth,  they  would  be  found 
entitled  to  anything  but  respect.  What  is  ordi- 
narily understood  by  good  society  ?  Certainly 
the  exclusion  of  nothing  had  but  poverty  :  it 
may  exclude  every  one  of  the  virtues,  provided 
there  be  a  sufficiency  of  wealth.  And  when  we 
speak  of  making  a  meeting  or  a  society  se/ec^, 
who  thinks  of  employing  any  other  process,  if 
money  be  the  means  of  admission,  than  that  of 
raising  the  price,  and  thus  erecting  a  test  of 
wealth  ?  We  find  ourselves  in  a  world  where  a 
thousand  conflicting  objects  propose  themselves 
to  our  attention,  eacli  claiming  to  deserve  our 
supreme  regard  ;  but  who  thinks  of  disturbing 
the  ratified  decision  of  generations,  that,  of  all 
these  objects,  money  is  the  main  chance  ?  What- 
ever attainments  a  man  may  be  making  in  other 
respects,  yet,  as  if  wealth  were  the  only  prize 
worth  contending  for  in  the  race  of  life,  he  only 
is  said  to  be  getting  on  in  the  world  who  is  in- 
creasing his  property.  The  term  gain  is  not 
applied  to  knowledge,  virtue,  or  happiness  :  it 
is  reserved  solely  to  mark  pecuniary  acquisi- 
tions ;  it  is  synonymous  with  gold,  as  if  nothing 
but  gold  were  gain,  and  everything  else  were 
comparative  loss.  And  the  man  whose  gains 
are  known  to  be  rapidly  increasing,  is  not  only 
spoken  of  by  the  multitude,  under  their  breath, 
with  marked  veneration  and   awe,   but,  as  if  he 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  91 

more  nearly  approached  the  creative  power 
than  any  other  liuman  being,  he  is  said  to  be 
making  muncy  ; — and  having  said  that,  eulogy 
is  exhausted,  he  is  considered  to  be  crowned 
with  praise. 

Could  we   ascertain   the  entire  amount  of  na- 
tional excitement  and   emotion   experienced   in 
the  course  of  a  year,  and  could  we  then  distrib- 
ute it  into   classes,    assigning  each   respectively 
to  its  own  exciting  cause,  who  can  for  a  moment 
doubt   that   the    amount    of  excitement   arising 
from  the   influence  and   operation  of  money,  di- 
rect and  indirect,  would  not   only  exceed  that  of 
either  of  the  others,  separately  considered,    but 
would  go  near  to  surpass  them  altogether  ?     And 
wiicn  it  is  remembered  th^t  this  cause  is  always 
in  operation  ;  that  it  has  acquired  a  character  of 
permanence;    that   our  life  is   spent  under   the 
reign  of  weahh  ;  how  can  it  be  otherwise  than 
that  we  should  become  its  subjects,  if  not  even 
its  slaves  .'*     When,  year  after  year,  the  assem- 
bled   wisdom    of    the    nation    is   employed    for 
months,  discussing,  in  the  hearing  of  the  nation, 
questions  of  cost  and  finance,  trying  the  merit  of 
every  proposition  by  a   standard  of  profit  and 
loss,  and  thus  virtually  converting  the  throne  of 
legislation    into  a  tabic  of  exchange,   it  can  only 
follow,    that  the  same  standard  will  be  generally 
adopted  in  private  life  to  try  individual  questions. 
If  the  body  j)olitic  be  so  constituted  that  the  Ex- 
change is  its  heart,   then  every  particular   pulse 
in  the  community  will  aim  to  find  its  health,   by 
beating  in  unison  with  it. 
9 


92  THE    PRESENT    PREDOMINANCE    OF 

Thus  the  spirit  of  gain,  which  in  most  coun- 
tries is  only  one  power  amongst  many,  may  here 
be  said  to  be  tutelary  and  supreme  j  and  the 
love  of  money,  from  being  an  occasional  pursuit, 
becomes,  in  innumerable  instances,  a  rooted  and 
prevailing  passion.  Nor  is  it  possible  for  piety 
itself  to  escape  the  infection.  To  live  here,  is 
to  live  in  the  Temple  of  Mammon  ;  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  see  the  God  worshipped  daily,  to  be- 
hold the  reverence  of  the  multitude,  to  stand  in 
the  presence  of  the  idol,  without  catching  the 
contagion  of  awe,  and  yielding  to  the  sorcery  of 
wealth. 

Are  our  religious  assemblies  exempt  from  the 
debasing  influence  1  *'  My  brethren,"  said  the 
apostle  James,  "  have  not  the  faith  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  glory,  with  respect  of 
persons.  For  if  there  come  unto  your  assembly 
a  man  with  a  gold  ring,  in  goodly  apparel,  and 
there  come  in  also  a  poor  man  in  vile  raiment ; 
and  ye  have  respect  unto  him  that  weareth  the 
gay  clothing,  and  say  unto  him,  Sit  thou  here  in 
a  good  place  ;  and  say  to  the  poor,  Stand  thou 
there,  or  sit  here  under  my  footstool  :  are  ye  not 
then  partial  in  yourselves,  and  are  become 
judges  of  evil  thoughts  ? "  The  apostle  is  depre- 
cating that  homage  to  wealth  which  implies  that 
it  is  honorable  for  its  own  sake  alone,  and  that 
poverty  is  disgraceful,  however  borne  ;  a  homage 
which,  while  it  is  sinful  every  where,  cannot  be 
practised  in  the  sanctuary  without  offering  pecu- 
liar insult  to  the  throne  of  God.  But  did  not  the 
apostle  draw  this  picture   prophetically  of  the 


COVETOUSNRSS    IN    BRITAIN. 


93 


present  day  ?  Could  he  now  witness,  says  Scott, 
in  his  comment  on  this  scripture,  what  takes 
place  generally  in  this  matter,  and  give  his  opin- 
ion of  it,  would  he  not  repeat  the  censure  that 
we  are  influenced  by  corrupt  reasonings  and 
erroneous  calculations?  and  utter  it  in  words 
even  more  severe  ?  And  would  he  not  find,  it 
may  be  added,  that  the  influence  of  wealth  has 
penetrated  deeper  still?  that  it  not  only  sits  in 
the  presence  of  God  while  poverty  stands,  but 
that  it  often  rules  there  while  poverty  serves  ; 
that  in  that  sacred  enclosure,  where  men  should 
take  rank  only  by  superiority  of  spiritual  excel- 
lence, wealth,  in  many  instances,  lords  it  over 
character,  and  reigns  with  a  sway  as  undisputed 
as  it  exercises  in  the  world  ? 

Has  the  management  of  our  benevolent  societies 
escaped  the  prevailing  evil?  The  guardians  of 
the  funds  of  benevolence,  indeed,  cannot  too 
carefully  protect  them  from  exorbitant  charges, 
and  a  wasteful  expenditure;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  they  are  not,  under  the  plea  of  economy, 
to  refuse  to  the  tradesman  a  remunerating'profit. 
Yet  tradesmen  are  occasionally  heard  to  com- 
plain that  such  is  the  fact;  that  the  grinding 
system  of  some  of  our  religious  committees  leaves 
them  to  do  business  for  nothing.  Besides  which, 
is  there  not,  in  many  instances,  too  much  reli- 
ance placed  on  the  efficacy  of  money  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  religious  objects?  too  much 
deference  paid  to  wealth  in  the  selection  of  chair- 
men, ofhcers,  and  members?  too  evident  a  dis- 
position to  estimate  tlie  prosperity  of  an  institu- 


94  THE    PRESENT    PREDOMINANCE    OF 

tion  by  the  amount  of  its  funds'?  too  much  of  a 
pecuniary  rivalry  with  kindred  institutions  1  and 
too  little  delicacy  about  the  means  employed  to 
swell  the  funds,  provided  only  the  increase  take 
place  1  Is  it  not  equally  true  of  the  institution 
that  "maketh  haste  to  be  rich,"  as  of  the  man, 
that  it  "  cannot  be  innocent  1  " 

Are  our  public  meetings  of  benevolence  free 
from  the  taint  ?  Is  there  nothing  questionable 
in  the  way  in  which  money  is  raised  on  those 
occasions  ?  nothing  of  a  worldly  mechanism  for 
raising  benevolence  to  the  giving  point  ?  nothing 
of  the  anxiety  of  a  pecuniary  adventure  felt,  by 
those  most  deeply  interested,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  a  meeting  ?  and,  as  the  pecuniary  ex- 
periment proceeds,  is  not  that  anxiety  increased 
as  to  how  the  speculation  will  succeed  1  Are 
there  not  occasions  when  our  platforms  exhibit 
a  scene  too  much  resembling  a  bidding  for  no- 
tice ? — The  writer  feels  that  he  is  treading  on 
delicate  ground ;  nor  has  he  advanced  thus  far 
on  it  without  trembling.  He  is  fully  aware  that 
many  of  those  scenes  to  which  he  alludes  have 
originated  spontaneously,  unexpectedly,  and 
from  pure  Christian  impulse  : — would  that  the 
number  of  such  were  increased  !  He  does  not 
forget  that  some  of  the  agents  of  benevolence 
who  are  most  active  in  promoting  a  repetition  of 
such  scenes,  are  among  the  excellent  of  the 
earth.  He  bears  in  mind,  too,  that  among  those 
whose  names  are  proclaimed  as  donors  on  such 
occasions,  are  some  whom  it  is  a  privilege  to 
know ;    men    who    give   privately    as   publicly ; 


COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN.  95 

whose  ordinary  charity  is  sinn:le-handed.  And 
he  feels  convinced  that  the  ruling  motive  of  all, 
is,  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  Christian  beneficence 
to  the  glory  of  the  grace  of  God.  Nor  can  he 
be  insensible  to  the  unkind  construction  to  which 
these  remarks,  however  humbly  submitted,  are 
liable  to  expose  him  ;  or  to  the  avidity  with 
which  the  captious  and  the  covetous  will  seize 
and  turn  them  to  their  own  unhallowed  account; 
or  to  the  force  of  the  plea  that  the  best  things  are 
open  to  abuse,  and  that  it  is  easy  to  raise  ob- 
jections against  the  purest  methods  and  means 
of  benevolence.  Still,  however,  he  feels  himself 
justified  in  respectfully  submitting  to  the  Chris- 
tian consideration  of  those  most  deeply  concerned 
in  the  subject,  whether  our  anxiety  for  the  attain- 
ment of  the  glorious  cnd^  has  left  us  sufficiently 
jealous  for  the  purity  of  the  means ;  whether 
some  of  these  means  do  not  call  for  reconsidera- 
tion ;  whether  they  do  not  too  directly  appeal  to 
motives  which  the  gospel  discountenances  and 
disowns  ;  and  whether  they  rely  sufficiently  on 
the  power  of  Christian  appeal  to  Christian  prin- 
ciple ; — whether,  in  fine,  the  mechanical  spirit 
of  the  age  is  not  beginning  to  influence  the  sup- 
ply of  our  funds,  to  the  injury  of  the  spirit  of 
genuine  benevolence. 

But  does  not  the  very  fact,  that  novel  and 
questionable  means  are  sometimes  resorted  to 
for  the  purpose  of  replenishing  the  funds  of  be- 
nevolence, imply  that  ordinary  and  approved 
methods  had  failed  to  answer  that  eml  ?  in  other 
words,  that  the  charge  of  covetousness  lies  against 
9* 


96  COVETOUSNESS    IN    BRITAIN. 

the  prof essors  of  the  gospel  generally  ?  But,  be- 
sides this  presumptive  evidence  of  the  charge,  it 
is  easy  to  substantiate  it  by  two  direct  proofs — 
the  first,  derived  from  their  conduct  in  the  world  ; 
and  the  second,  from  their  conduct  in  the  church. 
Who  has  not  heard  of  the  morality  of  trade  as 
differing  materially  from  the  standard  morality 
of  the  gospel  1  Yet,  how  small  the  number  of 
Christian  professors  who  perceive  the  guilt  of 
this  moral  solecism  !  How  few  who  do  not  easily 
fall  in,  for  the  sake  of  pecuniary  advantage,  with 
the  most  approved  worldly  methods  of  increasing 
their  profits  !  Blinded  by  the  love  of  gain,  and 
justifying  themselves  on  the  ground  of  custom 
and  self-defence,  the  sense  of  right  is  overruled, 
and  conscience  itself  becomes  a  victim  on  the 
altar  of  mammon.  The  other  proof  of  the  covet- 
ousness  of  the  church  may  be  deduced  from  the 
very  fact,  that  its  contributions  to  the  cause  of 
mercy  are  annually  increasing.  For  it  proves, 
either  that,  having  reached  the  standard  mark 
of  liberality,  we  are  now  yearly  exceeding  it, 
or  else  that,  with  slow  and  laborious  steps,  we  are 
only  as  yet  advancing  towards  it.  If  the  latter 
— does  not  the  increase  of  every  present  year 
cast  a  reproach  back  on  the  comparative  parsi- 
mony of  every  past  year  ?  Will  not  the  aug- 
mented liberality  of  next  year  reproach  the  nig- 
gardliness of  this  1 


SECTION    V. 


THE  DISGUISES  OF   COVETOUSNESS. 

Easv  as  it  is,  however,  to  demonstrate  the 
prevalence  of  covelousness, — to  convict  the  in- 
dividual conscience  of  the  evil,  to  bring  home 
the  charge  personally  so  as  to  produce  self-accu- 
sation, is  one  of  the  last  efturls  in  which  we  hope 
for  success.  Men  think  not  of  covetousness, 
and  of  themselves,  at  the  same  time.  He  who 
can  decide,  with  equal  facility  and  precision,  the 
exact  point  at  which  cupidity  begins  in  another, 
no  sooner  finds  the  same  test  about  to  be  applied 
to  himself  than  he  discovers  a  number  of  excep- 
tions, which  render  the  standard  totally  inappli- 
cable. It  was  remarked  by  St.  Francis  de  Sales, 
who  was  greatly  resorted  to  in  his  day  as  a  con- 
fessor, that  none  confess  the  sin  of  covetousness. 
And  he  who  "  knew  what  was  in  man,"  sought 
to  alarm  our  vigilance,  by  saying  of  this  sin  what 
he  said  so  emphatically  of  no  other,  *'  Take  heed, 
and  beware  of  it." 

It  is  true  of  every  passion,  that  it  has  an  estab- 


98 


THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


lished  method  of  justifying  itself;  but  of  covet- 
ousness  it  may  be  said  that  all  the  passions  awake 
to  justify  it;  they  all  espouse  its  cause,  and  draw 
in  its  defence,  for  it  panders  to  them  all  : 
*'  Money  answereth  all  ends," 

The  very  prevalence  of  the  evil  forms  its  most 
powerful  protection  and  plea  ;  for  "  the  multi- 
tude never  blush."  We  might  have  supposed 
that  its  prevalence  would  have  facilitated  its  de- 
tection and  exposure  in  individual  cases ;  but 
owing  to  its  very  prevalence  it  is  that  so  few  are 
conscious  of  it.  We  keep  each  other  in  coun- 
tenance. Having  been  born  in  the  climate,  we 
are  not  aware  of  any  thing  pernicious  in  it.  The 
guilt  of  this,  as  of  every  other  sin,  is  measured 
by  a  graduated  scale ;  and  as  all  around  us  in- 
dulge in  it  up  to  a  certain  point  of  the  scale,  it  is 
only  from  that  point  we  allow  covetousness  be- 
gins ;  we  begin  to  reckon  guilt  only  from  that 
point.  Indignation  is  reserved  till  that  point  is 
passed,  and  the  passion  has  become  monstrous 
and  extreme.  Because  we  are  not  a  community 
of  Trumans,  Elwes  and  Dancers,  we  exchange 
looks  of  congratulation,  and  flatter  ourselves  that 
we  are  innocent.  The  very  resentment  which 
we  let  loose  on  such  personifications  of  the  vice, 
seems  to  discharge  us  from  all  suspicion,  and  to 
grant  us  a  fresh  dispensation  to  indulge  in  the 
quiet  of  ordinary  covetousness.  Yet,  often  is  it 
to  be  feared,  that  very  resentment  is  the  mere 
offspring  of  jealousy  ;  like  the  anger  awakened 
in  a  community  of  the  dishonest,  at  finding  that 
one  of  their  number  has  violated  the  rules  of 


THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  99 

the  body,  by  secreting   more  than  his  share  of 
booty. 

But  tliat  which  constitutes  the  strength  of  cov- 
etousness,  is,  its  power  to  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  virtue  :  like  ancient  armor  it  is  at  once 
protection  and  disguise.  '*  No  advocate  will 
venture  to  defend  it  under  its  own  proper  charac- 
ter. Avarice  takes  the  license  used  by  other 
felons,  and,  by  the  adoption  of  an  alias^  escapes 
the  reprobation  attached  toils  own  name."* 
In  the  vocabulary  of  covetousness,  worldliness 
means  industry  ;  though  it  is  obvious  to  every 
Christian  observer,  that  the  pretended  industry 
of  many  a  religious  professor  is  the  destruction 
of  his  piety,  and  will  eventually  form  the  ground 
of  his  condemnation.  Idleness  is  his  pretended 
aversion.  His  time,  his  strength,  his  solicitudes, 
are  all  drained  off  in  the  service  of  Mammon; 
while  nothing  is  left  for  religion  but  a  faint  sigh, 
a  hurried  heartless  prayer,  and  an  occasional 
struggle  so  impotent  as  to  invite  defeat. 

"  But  Providence,"  he  pleads,  "  has  actually 
filled  his  hands  with  business  without  his  seek- 
ing ;  and  would  it  not  be  ungrateful  to  lose  it  by 
neglect  r  "  But  have  you  never  heard,  we  might 
reply,  that  God  sometimes  tries  his  people,  to  see 
whether  they  will  keep  his  commandments  or 
not  1  and  may  he  not  be  now  proving  how  far 
the  verdure  of  your  piety  can  resist  the  ex- 
haling and  scorching  sun  of  prosperity .''  Besides, 
is  it  supposable  that  God    intended   you  to  inter- 

*  Mrs,  More. 


100  THE    DISGUISES    OF    CQVETOUSNESS. 

pret  his  grant  of  worldly  prosperity  into  a  dis- 
charge from  liis  service,  and  a  commission  in  the 
service  of  Mammon  ?  And,  more  than  all,  sig- 
nificantly as  you  may  think  his  providence  in- 
vites you  to  labor  for  the  bread  that  perisheth, 
does  not  his  gospel,  his  Son,  your  Lord  and  Re- 
deemer, call  you  a  thousand-fold  more  emphatic- 
ally to  labor  for  the  meat  which  endurctli  unto 
eternal  life  ?  You  maij  be  misinterpreting  the 
voice  of  his  providence  ;  the  voice  of  his  gospel 
you  cannot  misunderstand  ;  it  is  distinct,  imper- 
ative and  incessant ;  urging  you  daily  to  "  seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness." 

Another  individual  is  a  slave  to  parsimony; 
but  he  is  quite  insensible  to  it,  for  the  tempta- 
tion solicits  him  under  the  disguise  of  frugality. 
Waste  is  his  abhorrence  ;  and  he  knows  no  ref- 
uge from  it  but  in  the  opposite  extreme.  Every 
new  instance  of  impoverished  prodigality  is  re- 
ceived by  him  as  a  warning  from  Providence  to 
be  careful.  His  creed  is  made  up  of  all  the  ac- 
credited maxims  and  world-honored  proverbs  in 
favor  of  covetousness,  the  authority  of  which  he 
never  questions,  and  the  dexterous  application 
of  which  fortifies  his  mind  with  an  antidote 
against  all  the  contagious  attacks  of  charity. 
And  thus,  though  he  lives  in  a  world  supported 
by  bounty,  and  hopes,  perhaps,  to  be  saved  at 
last  by  i^race,  he  gives  only  wlien  shame  will  not 
allow  him  to  refuse,  and  grudges  the  little  which 
he  gives. 

The  aim  of  another  is  evidently  the  accumu- 
lation of  wealth  ;  but  the  explanation  which    he 


DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  101 

gives  to  himself  of  liis  conduct,  is,  that  he  de- 
sires simply  to  i)rovide  for  the  future.  Want  is 
his  dread.  And  though,  in  his  aim  to  avoid 
this  evil,  he  may  not  distinctly  propose  to  him- 
self to  hecome  rich,  yet  what  else  can  result 
from  his  constantly  amassing  1  His  interpreta- 
tion of  competence,  if  candidly  avowed,  is  offiu- 
rnce  ;  a  dispensation  from  labor  to  himself  and 
family  to  the  end  of  time,  a  discharge  from  fu- 
ture dependence  on  Providence,  a  perpetuity  of 
ease  and  sloth.  Till  he  has  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing that  enviable  state,  his  mind  is  full  of  forebod- 
ing; he  can  take  no  thought  eircpt  for  the  mor- 
row. As  if  Providence  had  vacated  its  throne, 
and  deserted  its  charge,  he  takes  on  himself  all 
the  cares  and  burdens  belonging  to  his  state  ; 
and,  laden  with  these,  he  is  totally  disqualified 
for  every  hf)ly  duty  and  Christian  enterprise 
which  would  take  him  a  single  step  out  of  his 
way  to  competence.  And  often  is  he  to  be  seen 
providing  for  the  infirmities  of  age  long  after 
these  infirmities  have  overtaken  him,  and  labor- 
ing to  acquire  a  competence  up  to  the  moment 
when  a  competence  for  him  means  only  the  ex- 
penses of  his  funeral. 

In  the  instance  of  a  person  who  has  attained 
to  competence,  covetousness  often  seeks  to  es- 
cape detection  under  the  name  of  contentment. 
lie  fancies  that  he  is  completely  vindicated  from 
the  charge  of  cupidity,  by  saying,  "  I  am  quite 
content  with  what  I  have."  But  so  also  that 
minion  of  wealth  whom  our  Lord  introduces  with 
the  solemn  warning,   "  Take  heed,  and  beware 


102         THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

of  covetousness."  His  contentment  is  only  cov- 
etousness  reposing  selt-coniplacently  from  its 
toils,  resting  on  its  vvell-lilled  bags,  and  saying, 
**  Soul,  take  thine  ease."  Let  an  agent  of  char- 
ity approach  him  with  outstretched  and  imploring 
hand,  and,  as  if  touched  by  llhuriel's  spear,  he 
will  forthwith  start  into  his  proper  character, 
and  demonstrate  that  his  contentment  depends 
on  his  keeping  his  property  entire ;  at  least,  that 
he  is  not  content  to  give. 

And  another  not  only  most  confidently  acquits 
himself  of  all  sus))icion  of  selfishness,  but  even 
appropriates  the  credit  of  being  benevolent,  on 
the  ground  of  his  natural  scnsibiliti/.  A  specta- 
cle of  sufl'ering  harrows  up  his  soul  ;  and  there- 
fore "  he  passes  by  on  the  other  side."  An  ob- 
ject of  destitution  afflicts  his  too  delicate  sympa- 
thies ;  and,  therefore,  he  closes  his  door  against 
it,  saying,  "  Depart  in  peace,  be  thou  warmed 
and  tilled ;  "  and  leaves  it  in  its  destitution  to 
perish.  And  thus,  by  belonging  to  the  school  of 
Rousseau  or  of  Sterne,  he  gives  himself  the  credit 
of  belonging  to  the  school  of  Christ ;  by  paying 
the  tax  of  a  sigh  to  wretchedness,  he  escapes  the 
levy  of  a  heavier  tribute,  and  even  purchases  a 
character  for  the  tenderest  susceptibility.  But 
sensibility  is  not  benevolence  ;  by  wasting  itself 
on  trifles,  it  may  render  us  slaves  to  selfishness, 
and  unfit  us  for  every  thing  but  scZ/'-commisera- 
tion. 

Covetousness  will  sometimes  indulge  itself 
under  the  pretence  of  ])reparing  to  retire  from  the 
cares  and  turmoil  of  active  life.     The  propriety 


THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  103 

of  an  early    retirement   from  business,   must  de- 
pend,   of  course,  on    circumstances.     But  how 
often   does   the   covetousness   which   wears  this 
mask,  retain  her  slave  in   her    service,  even    to 
hoary  Iiairs,    putting  liim  off  from  time   to  time 
with  delusive  promises   of  approaching   emanci- 
pation.    Or  else,  lie  retires  to  spend,  in  slothful 
and  selfish  privacy,  that  which  he  had  accumu- 
lated by  years  of  parsimony.     Or  else,  by  ming- 
ling readily  in  scenes  of  gaiety  and  amusement, 
he  shows  that  his  worldly  aversions   related,   not 
to  the  world  of  pleasure,  but  only  to  the  world  of 
business.     Instead  of  fixing  his  abode  where  his 
pecuniary  resources  and  Christian  activity  might 
have  rendered  him  an  extensive  blessing,  he  con- 
sults only  his  own  gratification,  establishes  him- 
self at  a  distance,  it  may  be,  from  "the  place  of 
the  altar,"  and,  in  a  regular   round  of  habitual 
indulgence,  lives  and  dies  an  unfaithful  steward, 
a  sober  sensualist,  a- curse  rather  than  a  blessing. 
Sometimes    covetousness   is   heard  enlarging 
complacently  on  the  necessity,  and    even  piety, 
of  providing  for  children.     And   here,  be  it  re- 
membered, we  are  not  considering  what  parcwfa/ 
duty  may  dictate  on  this   subject,  but  only  what 
covetousness  often  does  under  its  borrowed  name. 
Many  a  parent  gratifies  his  love  for  money,  while 
pretending  a  love  for  his  children.     The  facility, 
too,  with  which  he   quotes    certain    passages   of 
Scripture,   to  defend   the  course  he  is  pursuing, 
shows  how  acceptable  to  his  numerous  class  an  ar- 
gument would  be  in  favorof  hoarding,  since  these 
few  perverted  sentences  which  only  stem  to  sanc- 
10 


104 


THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


tion  it,  are  his  favorite  and  most  familiar  texts. 
Of  these,  his  chosen  strong-hold,  perhaps,  is  the 
declaration  of  the  apostle,  **  He   that  provideth 
not  for  his    own,  and   especially  for  those  of  his 
own  house,  hath   denied    the  faith,  and  is  worse 
than  an  infidel."     The  sacred   writer,  in  giving 
directions  relative  to  the  maintenance  of  widows, 
distinguishes  between  such  as  the  church  should 
relieve,  and  such  as  should  be  supported  by  their 
own    relatives ;    and    concerning    the    latter   he 
makes  the  statement  in  question.     Whence  it  fol- 
lows, first,  that  the  provision  contemplated  by  the 
apostle  is  not  laying    up    beforehand    for   future 
contingencies,  but  a  present  supply  of  present  ne- 
cessities, a  simple  maintenance  of  needy  relatives 
from  day   to  day.     And,  secondly,  (hat,  instead 
of  countenancing  parents  in    the   accumulation 
of  great  fortunes  for  their  children,  he  is  speak- 
ing of  the  maintenance  which  children,  if  able, 
should  afford  to  their  aged  and  destitute  parents. 
With  the  siihiect  of  providing  for  fa?nilies,  there- 
fore,   the    text    in  question    has  nothing   to  do. 
Rightly  interpreted,  we  see  that  it  enjoins,  not 
accumulating   but  giving.     How  humiliating  is 
the  only  explanation  which  can  be  given  of  the 
general  perversion  of  this  scripture,    and  of  the 
pertinacity  with  which  that  perversion  is  retained. 
Let  the  Christian  parent  compare  the   merits 
of  a   useful  education,   and   a  qualification   for 
business  or  a  profession,  with  the  merits  of  that 
state  of  so-called  independence  in  which  he  is 
toiling  to  place   his  family  ;  and  let  him  call  in 
the  aid  of  Scripture  and  of  prayer,  that  he  may 


THE    DISGUISES    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


105 


conduct  the  comparison  aright,  and  we  will  not 
fear  for  the  result.  Let  him  look  around  his 
neighborhood,  and  institute  a  comparison,  if  he 
can,  between  the  apparent  character  and  happi- 
ness of  the  six  nearest  individuals  who  have  been 
left  dependent,  under  God,  on  their  own  exer- 
tions for  respectability  and  support,  and  the  six 
who  have  been  left  independent  of  personal  ex- 
ertion, indeed,  but  pitiably  dependent  on  wealth 
alone  for  happiness,  and  let  him  say  which  state 
is  preferable  for  virtue  and  enjoyment.  Let  him 
say,  what  is  to  be  thought  of  the  consistency  of 
a  Christian  parent,  who,  with  our  Lord's  rep- 
resentation of  the  danger  of  riches  ringing  in  his 
ears,  goes  on  scheming  and  laboring,  to  leave  his 
children  rich  in  the  element  of  destruction  ;  toiling 
to  place  them  in  a  condition  in  which,  he  admits, 
it  is  all  but  impossible  that  they  should  be  saved. 
Let  him  ask  himself,  whether  such  an  one  be 
not  acting  over  again,  on  a  smaller  scale,  the 
part  of  the  Tempter,  when  he  brought  the  king- 
doms of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them  to  the 
Saviour's  feet  1  Let  him  remember,  not  only 
that  he  is  to  leave  his  children  behind  hini  in  a 
world  where  wealth  is  thought  to  be  every  thing, 
but  that  he  is  to  meet  them  again  in  a  world 
where  it  will  be  nothing — where  it  will  be  re- 
membered only  in  relation  to  the  purposes  to 
which  it  has  been  applied. 


SECTION    VI. 


TESTS  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 


But,  the  more  insidious  and  seductive  the 
forms  of  covetousness,  and  the  greater  its  preva- 
lence, the  more  necessary  does  it  become  to 
study  the  disease  in  its  symptoms ;  to  trace  it  to 
its  earliest  signs,  and  view  it  in  its  slightest  in- 
dications. In  order,  however,  that  the  patient 
may  benefit  by  the  investigation,  skill  is  not 
more  indispensable  in  the  physician,  than  a 
solicitous  impartiality  in  himself.  In  vain  would 
it  be  even  for  the  great  Physician  to  specify  the 
various  signs  of  this  moral  malady,  unless  those 
who  are  the  subjects  of  it  voluntarily  lay  bare 
their  breasts,  and  anxiously  lend  themselves  to 
ascertain  whether  or  not  the  plague-spot  be  upon 
them.  Without  this,  they  would  close  their  eyes 
to  the  presence  of  ninety-nine  symptoms,  and  ac- 
cept the  absence  of  the  hundredth  as  a  demon- 
stration of  their  perfect  freedom  from  the  taint ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  tender  and  faithful 


TESTS    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  107 

conscience  would  overlook  the  absence  of  the 
ninety-nine,  and  take  alarm  at  the  presence  of 
the  hundredth.  The  absence  of  one  or  two  out 
of  numerous  symptoms  of  a  bodily  disease,  does 
not  warrant  us  hastily  to  conclude  that  we  are 
totally  exempt  from  danger,  and  to  congratulate 
ourselves  on  our  escape  ;  for  we  recollect  that 
few  persons  exhibit  all  the  signs  of  any  disease. 
And  moral  diseases,  like  physical,  are  modified 
by  temperament  and  circumstances  ;  so  that  if 
some  of  the  indications  of  the  malady  in  question 
are  wanting,  a  little  impartial  examination  may 
disclose  others  sufficiently  determinate  to  awaken 
alarm,  and  produce  humiliation. 

"What  are  those  signs,  then,"  we  will  sup- 
pose the  reader  to  inquire,  "  what  are  some  of 
those  signs  whose  presence  would  indicate  the 
existence  of  covetousncss  in  nuj  character  ? " 
And  here,  reader,  we  would  remind  you  that  the 
inquiry  is  to  be  conducted  under  the  eye  of  God  ; 
that  a  consultation  of  physicians  over  your  dying 
bed  would  not  call  for  greater  seriousness  than 
the  present  exercise  ;  and  that  an  appeal  to 
Omniscience,  and  a  prayer  for  seasonable  grace, 
would  not  be  the  least  favorable  tokens  of  your 
earnestness  and  desire  to  be  benefited. 

You  have  seen  the  prevalence  of  covetousness, 
and  its  power  of  insinuation  under  fictitious 
names  :  are  you  now,  for  the  first  time  subject- 
ing your  heart  to  a  thorough  inspection  on  the 
subject?  but  ought  not  this  simple  fact  that  you 
are  doing  it  now  for  the  first  time,  to  excite  your 
suspicions,  and  prepare  you  to  find,  that,  while 
10* 


108  TESTS    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

you  have  been  sleeping,  the  enemy  has  been 
sowing  tares  in  your  lieart  ?  Taking  it  for 
granted  that  you  are  hving  in  the  habit  of  com- 
munion with  God,  you  no  doubt  advert,  from 
time  to  time  in  the  language  of  lamentation  and 
confession,  to  various  sins  which  have  never  ap- 
peared in  your  conduct,  but  which,  as  a  common 
partaker  of  sinful  humanity,  you  suspect  to  exist 
seminally  in  your  heart; — is  covetousness  named 
among  them  1 — When  last  did  you  deprecate  it  1 
when  last  were  you  earnest  in  prayer  for  a  spirit 
of  Christian  liberality  1 

Your  station,  property,  or  mental  character 
invest  you,  it  may  be,  with  a  measure  of  author- 
ity and  influence  ;  do  you  ever  employ  that  pow- 
er to  oppress  and  to  overrule  right  ?  Are  you, 
what  the  poor  denominate,  hard-hearted?  capa- 
ble of  driving  a  hard  bargain?  rigid  and  inex- 
orable as  an  Egyptian  task-master  in  your  mode 
of  conducting  business  1  enforcing  every  legal 
claim,  pressing  every  demand,  and  exacting  ev- 
ery obligation  to  the  extremest  point  of  justice? 
Are  you,  what  is  commonly  denominated  mean  1 
cutting  down  the  enjoyments  of  those  dependent 
on  you  to  the  very  quick  1  never  rewarding  ex- 
ertion a  tittle  beyond  what  is  "  in  the  bond  ?  " 
doling  out  requital  for  services  with  so  niggardly 
a  hand,  that  Want  alone  would  submit  to  your 
bondage  ? 

Can  you  "  go  beyond,  and  defraud  another  in 
any  matter  ?  "  Do  not  hastily  resent  the  ques- 
tion ;  for  only  remember,  first,  the  nmltiplied 
laws  which  already  exist  against  fraud  ;   and  the 


TESTS    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


109 


insufficiency  of  this  vast  and  complicated  appara 
tus,  as  implied  in  the  continued  labors  of  the  leg 
islature  to  prevent,  and  of  the  executive  to  pun- 
ish, fraud — all  intimating  the  dreadful  prevalence 
of  the  evil.  Recollect,  also,  that  no  multiplica- 
tion of  laws  can  supply  the  place  of  principle 
and  integrity;  artifice  would  still  find  a  way  o£ 
escape  through  the  finest  network  of  human  legis- 
lation. Then,  again,  bear  in  mind  the  grievous 
but  acknowledged  fact,  that  two  kinds  of  moral- 
ly obtain  in  life — the  morality  of  private  life,  all 
sensitiveness,  delicacy  and  honor  ;  and  the  moral- 
ity of  business,  all  secrecy  in  its  own  movements 
— all  vigilance  respecting  the  movements  of 
others — all  suspicion  of  their  representations — 
all  protestation  and  confidence  of  the  superior 
excellence  of  its  own  wares — all  depreciation  of 
theirs — a  morality  that  deems  a  thousand  things 
justifiable  in  business,  which  in  private  life 
would  be  condemned.  Now,  we  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  would  not  violate  the  law  ;  that 
you  would  shudder  at  the  bare  shadow  of  dis- 
lionesty  ; — but  do  you  never  avail  yourself  in 
business  of  the  ignorance  and  weakness  of  oth- 
ers ?  Do  you  ever  take  advantage  of  that  class 
of  the  secrets  of  your  business,  which,  though 
deemed  defensible  by  the  world,  are,  to  say  the 
least,  of  a  doubtful  character  ?  Are  you  satisfied 
with  escaping,  and,  perhaps,  barely  escaping  the 
penalty  of  the  law  ?  and  with  pleading  that  you 
are  only  doing  as  others  do  ?  and  all  this  for 
the  sake  of  a  little  paltry  gain  ? 

Providence,  perhaps,   has  assigned  you  a  sta- 


110  TESTS    OF    C0VET0USNES3. 

tion  in  society,  which,  though  it  leaves  many 
below  you,  places  numbers  above  you.  Are  you 
content  with  the  allotment  ?  If  you  regard  your 
own  situation  with  dissatisfaction,  and  the  supe- 
rior advantages  of  others  with  envy,  and  speak 
disparagingly  of  their  merits,  and  repine  at  your 
worldly  circumstances,  though  at  the  same  time 
the  imperishable  treasures  of  grace  are  placed 
within  your  reach, — what  are  you  but  saying,  in 
effect,  that  no  heavenly  wealth  can  compensate 
in  your  esteem  for  the  unrighteous  mammon  after 
which  you  pine  ? 

We  have  adverted  to  the  numerous  maxims 
and  proverbs  by  the  currency  and  frequent  rep- 
etition of  which  the  world  seeks  to  fortify  itself 
against  the  claims  of  benevolence,  and  to  justify 
itself  in  its  all-grasping  endeavors  ; — do  you  find 
these  maxims  occasionally  falling,  in  self-justifi- 
cation, from  your  own  lips  ?  He  whom  you 
acknowledge  as  your  Lord  and  Master  has  de- 
clared that  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive," — a  saying  which  falls  like  a  paradox, 
an  enigma,  an  impossibility,  on  the  infidel  covet- 
ousness  of  the  human  heart, — do  you  find  that 
your  heart,  when  left  to  itself,  sympathizes 
more  cordially  on  this  point  with  your  Master  or 
with  the  world  ?  The  same  Divine  authority 
has  pronounced  it  to  be  a  characteristic  of  the 
pagan  and  ungodly  world,  to  care  for  the  pro- 
vision of  their  temporal  wants  as  solicitously  as 
if  no  Providence  superintended  the  world,  no 
"  heavenly  Father,"  cared  for  them  ; — do  you 
stand  apart  from  the  irreligious  in  this  respect? 


TESTS    OF     COVETOUSNESS.  Ill 

If  tlieir  conduct  proves  that  they  have  no  God, 
does  yours  prove  that  you  have  one  1  If  the 
world  could  lay  open  your  breast,  would  it  not 
be  justified  in  concluding  that  though  you  have 
a  God,  you  cannot  trust  him  1  that,  in  temporal 
things,  you  are  obliged,  after  all,  to  do  as  they 
do — rely  exclusively  upon  yourself?  And  when 
the  hour  returns  lor  your  appearance  in  the 
closet,  in  the  sanctuary,  at  the  i)ost  of  Christian 
usefulness  and  benevolence,  but  returns  to  mourn 
your  absence — where  then  are  you  to  be  searched 
for  with  the  greatest  likelihood  of  being  found  1 
At  the  altars  of  mammon  1  amidst  the  engrossing 
cares  and  services  of  the  world? 

Does  not  the  dread  of  a  petty  loss,  or  the 
pro.^pect  of  a  petty  gain,  fill  you  with  emotions 
beyond  what  the  magnitude  of  either  would 
warrant  1  And  were  a  committee  of  the  wisest 
and  the  best  of  men  to  sit  in  friendly  judgment 
on  your  worldly  afl'airs,  would  they  not  be  likely 
to  pronounce  that  your  mind  might  be  safely  dis- 
charged of  all  that  solicitude  which  now  disturbs 
it,  and  be  left  entirely  free  for  the  service  of 
God?  You  confers  that  God  may  justly  com- 
plani  of  you  as  slothful  and  unfaithful  in  his  ser- 
vice ; — would  INlammon  be  justified  in  urging  a 
similar  complaint  ?  or,  rather,  may  he  not  boast 
of  you  as  one  of  his  most  diligent  and  exemplary 
servants?  Are  you  providing  more  earnestly 
for  the  future  moments  of  time  than  for  the  future 
ages  of  eternity  ?  Arc  you  spending  life  in  pro- 
viding the  means  of  living,  and  are  you  thus 
living  to  no  end  ?     Are  you  preparing  to  depart  ? 


112  TESTS    OF  COVETOUSNESS. 

or,  would  death  find  you  saying,  *'  Soul,  take 
thine  ease  ?  "  counting  your  gains  ?  loth  to  quit 
your  possessions?  and  "  setting  your  affections 
on  things  on  the  earth  ?  "  Have  you  engaged 
in  any  worldly  avocation  or  object,  not  from 
necessity,  but  choice  ?  and  merely  to  augment 
your  means  of  ostentation  and  indulgence? 
And  are  you  to  be  found  giving  early  notice  to 
the  world  of  any  little  addition  made  to  your 
property,  by  an  instant  addition  to  your  establish- 
ment or  expenditure  ?  Were  two  courses  open 
to  you,  the  one  bright  with  gold,  but  beset  with 
temptation  ?  the  other  less  lucrative,  but  rich  in 
religious  advantages, — which  would  you  be  like- 
ly to  adopt  ? 

Are  you,  at  times,  tempted  to  vow  that  you 
will  never  give  any  thing  more  in  charity?  In- 
stances are  by  no  means  of  rare  occurrence  of 
imposture  practised  on  the  generous,  and  of 
kindness  requited  with  ingratitude,  and  of  be- 
nevolent funds  unfaithfully  administered  ;  and 
some  of  these  painful  examples  may  have  come 
under  your  own  observation  :^do  you  detect 
yourself,  at  such  times,  storing  them  up  as  argu- 
ments against  future  charity  ?  conveying  them, 
as  weapons  of  defence,  into  the  armory  of  covet- 
ousness,  to  be  brought  out,  and  employed  at  the 
next  assault  upon  your  purse  ?  When  you  are 
called  to  listen  to  a  discourse  on  ilie  perils  at- 
tending the  possession  of  wealth,  does  the  seed 
fall  into  congenial  soil  ?  or,  is  it  neessary,  as 
often  as  the  subject  is  introduced,  that  the  speak- 
er should  reproduce  his  "  strong  arguments,"  in 


TESTS    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


113 


order  to  reproduce  full  conviction  i.i  your  mind? 
Which,  tiiiiik  you,  would  make  a  greater  demand 
on  your  patience — an  argument  to  prove  that 
you  ought  to  give  more  to  the  cause  of  benev- 
olence? or,  an  excuse  and  justification  for  giving 
less  ? 

You  may  sometimes  find  yourself  passing  a 
silent  verdict  of  praise  or  blame  on  the  pecunia- 
ry conduct  of  others  :  now,  when  you  see  an  in- 
dividual more  than  ordinarUy  careful  of  his  mon- 
ey, do  you  regard  him  with  a  feeling  of  compla- 
cency ?  when  you  hear  his  conduct  condemned, 
are  you  disposed  to  speak  in  his  defence  ?  or, 
when  you  see  a  person  prodigal  of  his  property, 
is  your  feeling  that  of  astonishment,  as  if  he 
were  guilty  of  a  sin  which  you  could  not  com- 
prehend ? 

It  is  hardly  j)ossible  that  the  tempeiature  of 
benevolence  should  remain  quite  stationary  at 
the  same  point,  in  any  mind,  for  years  togeth- 
er:  now,  on  instituting  a  comparison  between 
the  past  and  the  present,  do  you  find  that  you 
have  sudered  no  decrease  of  genuine  sensibili- 
ty ?  that  you  are  quite  as  accessible  to  the  ap- 
peals of  beneficence  now,  as  you  were  ten  or 
twenty  years  ago,  and  ^conscious  of  as  much 
pleasure  in  yielding  to  thorn  ?  It  is  highly  im- 
probable that  your  worldly  affairs  are  precisely 
the  same  now  as  they  were  at  that  distance  of 
time;  but,  if  the  change  has  been  on  the  side 
of  prosperity,  have  the  oblations  which  you 
have  laid  on  the  altar  of  gratitude  been  propor- 
tionally increased  ?  or,  if  the  change   has    been 


114  TESTS    OF     COVETOUSNESS. 

adverse,  have  your  gifts  been  decreased  only  in 
proportion  ?  And,  among  your  regrets  at  the 
change,  are  you  conscious  of  a  pang  at  the  ne- 
cessity of  that  decrease  ? 

It  is  to  the  honor  of  the  present  day,  that  the 
calls  of  benevolence  multiply  fast ; — which,  is 
there  reason  to  believe,  you  resent  more,  their 
rapid  multiplication,  or  your  inability  to  meet 
them  all?  But,  in  order  to  meet  them,  have 
you  never  thought  of  retrenching  any  superflu- 
ity'? of  reducing  your  expenditure?  or,  do  you 
only  practise  that  precarious  and  cheap  benev- 
olence, which  waits  for  the  crumbs  that  fall 
from  your  table  ? 

You  may  be  scrupulously  abstaining  from 
certain  worldly  amusements  ;  but,  having  mark- 
ed off  a  given  space  in  which  you  do  not  allow 
yourself  to  range,  how  are  you  conducting  your- 
self in  that  portion  in  which  you  do  move  ? 
Are  you  not  vying  with  the  world  in  self-gratifi- 
cation ?  thinking  of  little  besides  the  mukiplica- 
tion  of  your  comforts?  living  under  the  domin- 
ion of  the  inferior  appetites  ?  as  far  removed 
from  the  salutary  restraints  and  self-denial  of 
the  gospel,  as  from  the  exploded  austerities  of 
the  monastic  life  ?  In  mechanics,  the  strength 
of  a  moving  power  is  estimated  by  the  amount 
of  resistance  which  it  overcomes;  now,  what  is 
the  strength  of  your  benevolence  when  tried  by 
a  similar  test  ?  what  does  it  overcome  ?  does  it 
resist  and  bear  down  your  vanity,  love  of  ease, 
and  self-interest  ?  does  it  impel  you  to  sacrifice 
"  the  pride  of  life,"  that  you  may  increase  your 
contributions  to  the  cause  of  mercy? 


TESTS    OF   COVETOUSNESS.  115 

Of  how  many  professing  Christians  may  it 
not  be  appropriately  asked,  not  only  *'  How  are 
you  living,  but  where  1  "  You  have  retired  from 
business,  it  may  be  ;  but,  in  taking  that  step, 
whose  will  did  you  consult?  Did  you  refer  it  to 
the  good  pleasure  of  God  ?  did  you  retire,  that 
you  might  do  more  good  than  before?  and  are 
you  doing  it?  did  you  look  out  for  a  sphere  in 
which  you  might  render  yourself  useful  ?  But, 
whether  you  were  formerly  immersed  in  the 
business  of  the  world  or  not,  have  you  escaped 
from  a  worldly  spirit?  In  the  choice  of  your 
place  of  abode,  in  the  distribution  of  your  time, 
and  the  formation  of  your  plans,  do  you  take 
counsel  from  the  word  of  God?  Are  you  acting 
on  the  Christian  motto,  "  No  man  liveth  to  him- 
self? "  and  are  you  employing  your  various 
talents  as  if  they  came  to  you,  bearing  this  in- 
scription, from  the  hand  that  lends  them,  "  Oc- 
cupy till  I  come  ?  " 

You  may  hear  occasionally  of  a  munificent 
donation  made  unexpectedly  by  Christian  grati- 
tude to  the  cause  of  God  ; — what  is  your  first 
emotion  at  the  report  ? — admiration  of  the  act  ? 
and  gratitude  to  the  grace  which  produced  it? 
— or  a  feeling  that  the  donor  has  unnecessarily 
exceeded  the  rw/es  of  ordinary  benevolence  ?  and 
a  disposition  to  impute  motives  of  vanity  and 
ostentation?  If  a  benevolent  mind  had  con- 
ceived some  new  project  of  mercy  requiring  pe- 
cuniary support,  would  your  presence  be  a  con- 
genial atiriosphere  for  the  bud  to  unfold  in?  or, 
would  the  first  emotion  expressed  in  your  coun- 
11 


116  TESTS  OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

tenance  be  a  chilling  doubt,  or  a  blighting, 
withering  frown  1  True  benevolence  is  not 
only  voluntary,  as  opposed  to  reluctant — it  is 
often  spontaneous,  as  opposed  to  solicited  ; — but 
does  yours  always  expect  to  be  waited  on  ?  has 
it  always  to  be  reminded  ?  does  it  need  to  be 
urged  ?  does  it  never  anticipate  the  appeal,  and 
run  to  meet  its  object  1  And  when  you  do  give, 
is  it  your  object  to  part  with  as  little  as  you  can 
without  shame,  as  if  you  were  driving  a  hard 
bargain  with  one  who  sought  to  overreach  you  1 
and  is  that  little  parted  with  reluctantly,  with  a 
half-closed  hand,  as  if  you  were  discharging  a 
doubtful  debt  on  compulsion  1  Is  it  given  with 
the  air  of  a  capitulation,  or  bribe  to  importunity, 
leaving  the  applicant  who  receives  it  ill  at  ease  ? 
Do  you  think  highly  of  the  trifle  you  give  1  not 
only  calculating  beforehand  how  much  you  can 
spare,  but  frequently  remembering  it  afterwards? 
pluming  yourself  on  the  benevolent  exploit  ? 
looking  out  for  its  emblazonment  in  the  ensuing 
Report  1  and  wondering  how  men  can  deny  them- 
selves the  luxury  of  doing  similar  good  ? — then  the 
mark  of  selfishness  is  upon  you.  For,  only 
remember  how  cheerfully  you  are  constantly 
parting  with  similar  sums  for  the  purpose  of  sell- 
indulgence,  soon  forgetting  them,  and  repeating 
them  again,  "  thinking  nothing  of  them." 

But  to  lay  open  the  sin  in  all  its  disguises  is 
impossible.  These  are  mere  hints  for  its  detec- 
tion. Owing  to  their  deficiency,  however,  or  to 
your  own  negligence  in  applying  them,  the  evil 
sought  for  may  still   be  undiscovered.     But  let 


TESTS  OF    COVETOUSNESS.  117 

nothing  flatter  you  into  the  persuasion  tliat  you 
are  exempt  from  it.  If  any  believer  of  the  Jew- 
ish church  Could  have  defied  its  remotest  ap- 
proaches, surely  that  saint  was  David:  if  any 
description  of  natural  character  could  form  a 
guarantee  against  the  sin,  here  was  a  man  who 
appears  to  have  brouji^ht  with  him  into  the  world 
the  elements  of  magnanimity  and  generosity  of 
soul  ;  yet  we  hear  him  cry,  in  the  full  conscious- 
ness of  danger,  *'  Incline  my  heart  unto  thy  tes- 
timonies, and  not  unto  covetousness."  If  any 
order  of  piety  in  the  Christian  church  could 
have  claimed  entire  immunity  from  the  sin, 
surely  it  was  that  to  which  Timothy  belonged. 
Yet  we  hear  the  apostle  Paul  warning  even  him. 
He  had  seen  so  many  apparent  proficients  in 
piety  drawn  in  by  this  moral  Maelstroom^  and 
*'  drowned  in  perdition,"  that  he  called  on  his 
"  dearly  beloved  Timothy,  his  own  son  in  the 
faith  " — called  on  him  with  more  than  his  usual 
earnestness — to  flee  to  the  greatest  distance 
from  this  fatal  vortex.  "  O  man  of  God,"  said 
he,  "flee  these  things."  As  if,  by  a  special 
appointment  of  Heaven,  the  monitory  strain  ad- 
dressed to  a  mail  of  God — to  such  a  man  of  God 
— and  echoing  through  the  church  in  all  ages, 
should  make  it  inexcusable  for  all  inferior  piety 
ever  to  doubt  its  liability  to  the  sin.  Of  all  the 
myriads  who  have  appeared  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  being  who  was 
entirely  free  from  the  taint.  But  he  was;  he 
embodied  the  very  opposite  principle  ;  he  was 
the  personification  of  love.     This   it  was  which 


118  TESTS  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 

constituted  his  fitness  to  wage  war  with  selfish- 
ness, and  to  become  the  Leader  of  the  hosts  of 
the  God  of  love  in  their  conflicts  with  a  selfish 
world.  Had  they  been  faithful  to  his  cause, 
long  ere  this  they  would  have  reaped  the  fruits 
of  a  final  and  universal  conquest.  "  But  all 
seek  their  own ;  not  the  things  which  are  Jesus 
Christ's," 


SECTION   VII 


THE  GCJILT   AND  EVILS   OP  COVETOUSNESS. 

Of  the  love  of  money,  the  Apostle  declares 
that  it  **  is  the  root  of  all  evil."  Not  that  he 
meant  to  lay  it  down  as  a  universal  proposition 
that  every  act  of  wickedness  originates  in  cupid- 
ity. But  that,  while  many  other  sources  of  sin 
exist,  there  is  no  description  of  crime  which  this 
vice  has  not  prompted  men  to  commit.  Of  the 
life-giving  tree  of  prophetic  vision  it  is  recorded, 
as  a  miracle  of  fertile  variety,  that  **  it  bare 
twelve  manner  of  fruits  ;  "  but,  as  if  to  eclipse 
that  heavenly  wonder,  here  is  an  earthly  root 
yielding  poisons  and  death,  at  all  times,  and  in 
endless  variety. 

On  no  subject,  perhaps,  are  the  Scriptures 
more  copious  and  minute  than  on  the  sin  of  cov- 
etousness.  If  a  faithful  portrait  of  its  loathsome 
character  can  induce  us  to  hate  it  ;  if  a  sight 
of  the  virtues  which  it  has  extinguished,  the 
vices  with  which  it  has  often  associated,  and  the 
depraved  characters  in  whom  it  has  most  flour- 
11* 


120  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

ished  ;  if  the  tenderest  dissuasives  from  it,  and 
the  terrors  of  the  Lord  warning  us  against  it; 
if  Sinai  and  Calvary  uniting  and  protesting 
against  it, — if  all  this  combined  can  deter  us 
from  the  sin  of  covetousness,  then  the  Scriptures 
have  omitted  nothing  which  could  save  us  from 
its  guilty  contamination. 

"Thou  shalt  not  covet."  Such  is  the  lan- 
guage of  that  command  which  not  only  concludes, 
but  at  the  same  tim6  completes,  and  guards,  and 
encompasses  the  moral  law.  If  love  be  the  ful- 
filling of  the  law,  it  follows  that  the  whole  dec- 
alogue is  to  be  regarded  as  law  against  selfish- 
ness ;  so  that  every  selfish  aiid  every  covetous  act 
is,  in  effect,  an  infraction  of  the  whole  late.  It 
is  to  love  ourselves  at  the  expense  both  of  God 
and  our  neighbor. 

Covetousness  appears  to  have  been  the  princi- 
pal element  in  the  first  transgression.  For  did 
not  the  sin  consist,  chiefly,  in  an  inordinate  de- 
sire for  an  object  on  which  God  had  virtually 
written,  "Thou  shalt  not  covet,"  and  which 
properly  belonged  to  another  ?  in  a  disposition 
which  originates  all  the  acts  of  a  grasping  cu- 
pidity 1  It  is  observable  that  the  terms  in  which 
the  primary  sin  is  described,  bear  a  close  resem- 
blance to  those  in  which  Achan  describes  his 
covetous  act.  "  When  I  saw  among  the  spoils," 
said  he,  '*  a  goodly  Babylonish  garment,  and  a 
wedge  of  gold,  then  I  coveted  them  and  took 
them."  "  And  when  the  woman  saw  that  the 
tree  was  good  for  food,  and  that  it  was  pleasant 
to  the  eyes,  and  a  tree  to  be  desired  to  make  one 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  121 

wise,  she  took  of  the  fruit  thereof,  and  did  eat." 
She  saw,  she  coveted,  she  partook. 

And  having  entered  into  the  composition  of 
the  first  sin,  and  thus  acquired  a  bad  pre-emi- 
nence, it  has  maintained  its  fatal  ascendency 
under  each  succeeding  dispensation  of  religion. 

Covetousness  in  the  person  of  Lot,  appears  to 
have  been  the  great  sin  of  the  patriarchal  dis- 
pensation. The  hope  of  increasing  his  wealth 
allured  him  first  to  pitch  his  tent  near  Sodom, 
and  at  length  prevailed  on  him  to  enter  the  city, 
and  to  breathe  its  pestilential  atmosphere ;  in  con- 
sequence of  which  he  became  subsequently  in- 
volved in  acts  so  grossly  sinful,  that  all  the  im- 
perfections of  the  other  patriarchs  combined  to 
gether,  seem  insignificant  compared  with  it, 
nor  should  we  probably  have  supposed  that  he 
was  a  subject  of  piety,  had  not  the  Bible  assured 
us  of  the  fact. 

In  the  instance  of  Achan,  to  which  we  have 
just  alluded,  covetousness  was  the  first  sin  of 
the  Israelites  under  their  new  dispensation  in 
Canaan.  It  violated  an  express  command ; 
brought  defeat  on  the  arms  of  Israel,  and  triumph 
on  their  foes. 

What  was  the  first  sin  of  the  Christian  church  ? 
it  was  covetousness  in  the  instance  of  Ananias 
and  Sapphira.  It  was  covetousness  which  first 
interrupted  the  joy,  and  stained  the  virgin  glory, 
of  the  present  dispensation.  And,  presently, 
we  shall  see  that  it  will  take  a  leading  part  in  the 
fearful  drama  of  the  final  apostacy. 

The  Scriptures  exhibit  covetousness  aspervad- 


122  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

ing  all  classes  of  mankind.  They  describe  it  as 
having  thrown  the  world  generally  into  a  state 
of  infidel  distrust  of  the  Divine  Providence,  and 
of  dissatisfaction  with  the  divine  allotments. 
*'  For  after  all  these  things,"  saith  Christ,  "  do 
the  Gentiles  seek."  They  seek  after  worldly  ob- 
jects as  independently  and  intently  as  if  there 
were  no  providence  to  care  for  them,  no  God  to 
be  consulted.  They  pursue  them  to  the  entire 
neglect  of  every  higher  object.  Sometimes  cov- 
etousness  has  been  seen  actuating  and  debasing 
the  character  of  an  entire  people.  Against  the 
Israelites  it  is  alleged,  *'  From  the  least  of  them 
even  unto  the  greatest  of  them,  every  one  is 
given  to  covetousness."  Of  Tyre  it  is  said, 
"  By  thy  great  wisdom  and  by  thy  traffic  hast  thou 
increased  thy  riches,  and  thine  heart  is  lifted  up 

because  of  thy  riches thou  hast  set  thine 

heart  as  the  heart  of  God."  And  of  Chaldea 
it  is  said,  *'  Wo  to  him  that  coveteth  an  evil 
covetousness  to  his  house,  that  he  may  set  his 
nest  on  high,  that  he  may  be  delivered  from  the 
power  of  evil."  The  insatiable  desires,  or  the 
continued  prosperity  and  boundless  possessions 
of  these  nations  had  left  nothing  in  the  national 
character  but  rapacity,  arrogance,  and  a  proud 
impiety  which  braved  the  very  throne  of  God. 

Descending  to  examine  the  component  parts  of 
a  nation,  we  find  covetousness  infecting  and 
pervading  them  all.  Hear  avarice  speaking  by 
the  mouth  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  *'  By  the  strength 
of  my  hand  I  have  done  it,  and  by  my  wisdom 
I  have  robbed  their  treasures  .  .    .  .  my 


OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


123 


hand  hatli  found  as  a  nest  the  riches  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  as  one  gathereth  eggs  that  are  left,  have 
J  gathered  all  the  eaith."  How  vividly  does 
Jeremiah  depict  its  atrocities  in  the  unbridled 
conduct  of  a  Jewish  king  ;  "  Thine  eyes  and 
thine  heart  are  not  but  for  thy  covetousness, 
and  for  to  shed  innocent  blood,  and  for  oppres- 
sion, and  for  violence,  to  do  it  ?  And  who  that 
is  familiar  with  sacred  history  does  not  here 
think  of  Ahab  coveting  the  vineyard  of  Naboth, 
and  of  obtaining  it  by  artifice,  subornation,  and 
murder? 

Covetousness  in  rulers,  leads  to  bribery  and  in- 
justice. "  Thoushalt  take  no  gift,"  said  Moses, 
*'  for  the  gift  blindeth  the  wise,  and  perverteth  the 
wordsofthe  righteous."  Accordingly,  it  is  record- 
ed of  the  sons  of  Samuel,  that  "  they  walked  not 
in  his  ways,  but  turned  aside  after  lucre,  and  took 
bribes,  and  perverted  judgment."  And  of  the 
Jewish  rulers,  "  they  are  greedy  dogs  which  can 

never  have  enough they  all  look  to  their 

own  way  ;  every  one  for  his  gain  from  his  quar- 
ter." And  of  Felix,  that  "  he  hoped  that  money 
would  have  been  given  him  of  Paul,  that  he 
might  loose  him."  Covetousness  has  turned  the 
priests  and  ministers  of  God  into  mercenary  hire-' 
lings  ;  "  The  heads  of  Zion  judge  for  reward, 
and  the  prophets  thereof  divine  lor  money  :  yet 
will  they  lean  upon  the  Lord,  and  say.  Is  not  the 
Lord  among  us?  none  evil  can  come  upon  us." 
In  the  department  of  trade,  this  sin  induces  the 
buyer  to  depreciate  the  thing  which  he  wishes  to 
purchase,    and    the    seller   to   employ    "  divers 


124  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

weights  and  measures," — thus  generating  fraud> 
falsehood,  and  injustice  :  while  in  both  it  leads 
loan  impious  impatience  of  the  sacred  restraints 
of  the  Sabbath,  inducing  them  to  say,  "  When 
will  the  new  moon  be  gone,  that  we  may  sell 
corn  ?  and  the  Sabbath,  that  we  may  set  forth 
wheat?  making  the  ephah  small,  and  the  shekel 
great,  and  falsifying  the  balances  by  deceit? 
that  we  may  buy  the  poor  for  silver,  and  the 
needy  for  a  pair  of  shoes  ;  and  sell  the  refuse  of 
the  wheat?"  Covetousness  turns  the  master 
into  an  oppressor,  and  the  servant  into  a  thief 
In  illustration  of  the  former,  the  Scripture  de- 
scribes a  Laban  evading  his  encraorements  with 
Jacob,  "changing  his  wages  ten  times,"  and  ex- 
acting from  him  years  of  laborious  servitude  ; 
and  it  denounces  those  who,  though  their  fields 
had  been  reaped,  "  kept  back  the  hire  of  the  la- 
borer by  fraud."  And  in  illustration  of  the  lat- 
ter, it  exhibits  an  unscrupulous  Gehazi,  plausi- 
bly lying,  and  enriching  himself  at  the  expense 
of  his  master's  character,  and  of  the  honor  of 
God  ;  and  it  exhorts  servants  to  "  be  obedient 
unto  their  masters,  not  purloining,  but  showing 
all  good  fidelity."  Thus  have  alJ  classes,  in 
various  degrees,  lived  under  the  dominion  of  av- 
arice. 

The  Scriptures  ascribe  to  the  same  sin,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  some  of  the  foulest  acts,  and  the 
most  fearful  results,  that  have  stained  the  history 
of  man.  Some  of  these  we  have  already  named. 
Oppression,  violence,  and  murder,  have  been 
among  its  familiar  deeds.      "  Wo    to  them  that 


OF    COVETOU8NESS.  126 

devise  iniquity,  and  work  evil  upon  their  beds! 
when  the  morning  is  light  they  practise  it,  be- 
cause it  is  in  the  power  of  their  hands.  And 
they  covet  fields,  and  take  them  by  violence ; 
and  houses,  and  lake  them  away  :  so  they  op- 
press a  man  and  his  house,  even  a  man  and  his 
heritage."  "  So  are  the  ways  of  every  one  that 
is  greedy  of  gain  ;  who  taketh  away  the  life  of 
the  owners  thereof." 

In  the  person  of  Balaam  covetousness  essayed 
to  curse  the  chosen  people  of  God  ;  but,  failing 
in  the  infernal  attempt,  and  yet  resolved  to  clutch 
the  promised  reward,  it  devised  another  course, 
— it  "  tauglit  Balak  to  cast  a  stumbling-block 
before  the  children  of  Israel,  to  eat  things  sac- 
rificed to  idols,  and  to  commit  fornication."  The 
dreadful  device  succeeded,  the  displeasure  of 
God  was  excited  against  the  people,  so  that 
"  there  fell  in  one  day  three  and  twenty  thou- 
sand." Such  was  "  the  way  of  Balaam,  the  son 
of  Bosor,  who  loved  the  wages  of  unrighteous- 
ness." And  so  ingenious,  persevering,  and 
fatally  successful,  was  "  Balaam  for  reward." 
Covetousness  instigated  Judas  to  betray  the  Son 
of  God,  the  Savior  of  the  world,  "  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver."    It  induced  Ananias  and  Sap- 

phira  to    "  tempt  the  Holy  Ghost to    lie, 

not  unto  men,  but  unto  God."  In  the  base  ex- 
pectation of  turning  "  the  gift  of  God  "  to  a  lu- 
crative account,  it  led  Simon  to  offer  to  purchase 
that  gift  *'  with  money."  It  has  even  assumed 
the  sacred  office,  trod  the  courts  of  the  Lord, 
"  brought  in   damnable   heresies,"    and   "  with 


126  THE    GUILT   AND    EVILS 

feigned  words  " — words  studied  to  render  the 
heresy  palatable  and  marketable — it  has  "  made 
merchandise  "  of  men.  It  converted  the  Jewish 
temple  into  "a  den  of  thieves;  "  and  among  the 
articles  of  meichandise  in  the  mystical  Babylon 
were  seen  **  the  souls  of  men." 

The  Scriptural  classification  of  this  sin  is  il- 
lustrative of  its  vile  and  aggravated  nature; 
for  it  stands  associated  ivith  all  the  principal 
sins. 

In  that  fearful  catalogue  of  the  vices  of  the 
heathen  world  furnished  by  the  apostle  Paul,  in 
the  first  chapter  of  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans, 
covetousness  stands  forth  conspicuous. 

When  the  apostle  Peter  is  describing  the  char- 
acter of  those  false  teachers  who  would  arise  in 
the  church, — and  describing  it  with  a  vievv  to 
its  being  recognised  as  soon  as  seen,  and  hated 
as  soon  as  recognised, — he  names  covetousness 
as  one  of  their  leading  features.  "  But  there 
were  false  prophets  also  among  the  people,  even 
as  there  shall  be  false  teachers  among  you,  who 
privily  shall  bring  in  damnable  heresies,  even 
denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  bring 
upon  themselves  swift  destruction.  And  many 
shall  follow  their  pernicious  ways;  by  reason  of 
whom  the  way  of  truth  shall  be  evil  spoken  of. 
And  through  covetousness  shall  they,  with  feign- 
ed words,  make  merchandise  of  you." 

Covetousness  will  be  one  of  the  characteristics 
of  the  final  apostacy.  *'  This  know  also,  that  in 
the  last  days  perilous  times  shall  come.  For 
men  shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous, 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  127 

boasters,  prourl,  blasphemers,  disobedient  to  pa- 
rents, untlianUful,  nnlioly,  wiiliout  natural  aflTec- 
tion,  truce-breakers,  false  accusers,  incontinent, 
fierce,  despisers  of  those  that  are  good,  traitors, 
heady,  high-minded,  lovers  of  pleasure  more 
than  lovers  of  G(jd." 

In  the  last  quotation,  covetousness  is  described 
as  more  than  an  attendant  evil  of  the  apostacy — 
it  is  one  of  its  very  elements.  In  the  following 
places  it  is  idcntijicd laith  idolatry:  — "  Fornica- 
tion and  all  uncleanness,  or  covetousness,  let  it 
not  be  once  named  among  you,  as  becomeih 
saints;  ....  for  this  ye  know,  that  no  whore- 
monger, nor  unclean  person,  nor  covetous  man, 
who  is  an  idolater,  hath  any  inheritance  in  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  and  of  God."  "  JNIortify 
therefore  your  members  which  are  upon  the 
earth  ;  fornication,  uncleanness,  inordinate  af- 
fection, evil  concupiscence,  and  covetousness, 
which  is  idolatry  :  for  which  things'  sake  the 
wrath  of  God  cometh  on  the  children  of  disobe- 
dience." In  addition  to  which,  the  apostle  James 
evidently  idcntijies  it  with  adultery.  "  Ye  covet, 
and  have  not ;  ....  ye  ask,  and  receive  not,  be- 
cause ye  ask  amiss,  that  ye  may  consume  it  up- 
on your  lusts.  Ye  adulterers  and  adulteresses, 
know  ye  not  that  the  friendship  of  the  world  is 
enmity  with  God  ?  whosoever,  therefore,  will  be 
a  friend  of  the  world  is  the  enemy  of  God." 

Covetousness    is  not  only   subversive   of  the 

threef(jld  law  of  Christian  duty,  personal,  social, 

and  divine,  but  it  stands  connected  with  each  of 

the  opposite  series  of  vices.     *f  For  from  within, 

12 


128  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

out  of  the  heart  of  men,  proceed  evil  thoughts, 
adulteries,  fornications,  murders,  thefts,  covet- 
ousness."  **  I  have  written  unto  you,  not  to 
keep  company,  if  any  man  that  is  called  a  brother 
be  a  fornicator,  or  covetous,  or  an  idolater,  or  a 
railer,  or  a  drunkard,  or  an  extortioner  ;  with 
such  an  one  no  not  to  eat."  "  Know  ye  not 
that  the  unrighteous  shall  not  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  God?  Be  not  deceived:  neither  forni- 
cators, nor  idolaters,  nor  adulterers,  nor  effemi- 
nate, nor  abusers  of  themselves  with  mankind, 
nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor 
revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  God."  "  Having  eyes  full  of  adultery, 
and  that  cannot  cease  from  sin  ;  beguiling  un- 
stable souls  ;  a  heart  they  have  exercised  with 
covetous  practices  ;  cursed  children." 

In  the  first  part  of  this  classification,  we  find 
covetousness  distinguishing  itself  as  a  prime  ele- 
ment in  the  great  system  of  heathenism,  even 
when  that  empire  of  depravity  was  at  its  worst. 
In  the  second  part,  we  see  it  forming  a  leading 
feature  in  the  character  of  men  whose  enormous 
impiety  the  apostle  appears  to  have  felt  it  a  labor 
to  describe.  In  the  third,  we  behold  covetous- 
ness lending  an  additional  shade  of  horror  to  the 
perilous  times  of  the  apostacy — times  so  fearful, 
in  the  estimation  of  the  apostle,  that  we  may 
rest  assured  he  would  have  admitted  into  his  de- 
scription of  them  none  but  evils  of  first-rate  mag- 
nitude— and  yet  covetousness  is  not  only  there, 
it  is  among  the  first  evils  which  he  specifies. 
His  classification   implies,   that  of  all  the  sins 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  129 

which  will  then  prevail,  selfishness  will  be  the 
prolific  root,  and  covetoiisness  the  first  fruit. 
So  that  when  the  whole  history  of  covetousness 
shall  be  read  forth  from  the  book  of  God's  re- 
membrance, it  will  be  found  that  it  entered 
largely  into  the  first  fall  of  man,  and  into  the  last 
fall  of  the  church;  and  that,  during  the  long 
lapse  of  time  between,  it  never  lost  its  power  nor 
ceased  to  reign.  From  the  fourth,  we  learn, 
that  if  the  word  of  God  identifies  covetousness 
with  some  sins  rather  than  with  others,  it  is, 
partly,  because  those  sins  rank  first  in  guilt ; 
leaving  us  to  infer  that  if  there  were  a  sin  which 
ranked  higher  still,  covetousness  would  have 
been  identified  with  that  sin.  What  was  the 
great  sin  of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  but  the  sin 
of  idolatry  ?  it  was  to  repeal  the  theocracy,  to  be 
guilty  of  treason  against  the  throne  of  Heaven. 
"  But,"  says  the  apostle  Paul,  fearful  as  it  is, 
"  covetousness  is  idolatry."  What  must  have 
been  the  abhorrence  with  which  a  pious  Jew  re- 
garded adultery,  when  the  sin  became  associated 
in  his  mind  as  the  scriptural  representation  of 
the  guilt  of  idolatry  !  for  "  Judah  committed 
adultery  with  stocks  and  with  stones."  And 
yet,  great  as  his  conception  of  its  enormity  must 
have  been,  the  apostle  James  declares  of  the 
covetous,  that  he  is  violating  the  most  sacred 
obligations  to  God,  that  he  is  committmg  adul- 
tery with  gold.  And  what  can  be  more  fearful 
in  the  eyes  of  a  sincere  Christian  than  the  sin 
of  apostacy  ?  of  trampling  under  foot  the  Son 
of  God  ?  it  is  the  very  consummation  of  guilt. 


130  THE  GUILT    AND  EVILS 

And  yet,  fearful  as  it  is,  the  apostle  Peter  inti- 
mates tliat  covetousness  is  apostacy.  And  from 
the  fifth  [)art,  we  learn  that  covetousness  repeals 
tlje  entire  law  of  love;  that  it  proclaims  war 
against  all  the  virtues  included  in  living  "  sober- 
ly, righteously,  and  godly,"  and  is  in  sworn  con- 
federacy with  all  the  opposite  sins  included  in 
personal  intemperance,  injustice  towards  men, 
and  impiety  towards  God.  Nor  is  the  reason  of 
this  alliance,  or  scriptural  classification,  obscure. 
Covetousness  is  classed  with  intemperance — or 
the  sins  which  appear  to  terminate  on  the  man 
himself — because,  like  them,  it  tends  to  debase 
and  imbrute  him.  It  is  ranked  with  injustice — 
or  the  sins  directed  against  society — because, 
like  them,  if  indulged,  and  carried  out,  it  seeks 
its  gratification,  at  the  expense  of  all  the  social 
laws,  whether  enacted  by  God  or  man.  And  it 
is  associated  with  impiety — or  sins  directly 
against  God — because,  like  them,  it  effaces  the 
image  of  God  from  the  heart,  and  enshrines  an 
idol  there  in  his  stead. 

Such  is  a  mere  outline  of  the  representations 
of  Scripture  in  relation  to  the  guilt  and  evils  of 
covetousness.  Entering  with  the  first  transgres- 
sion, and  violating  the  spirit  of  the  whole  law, 
it  has  polluted,  and  threatened  the  existence, 
of  each  dispensation  of  religion  ;  infected  all 
classes  and  relations  of  society  ;  shown  itself 
capable  of  the  foulest  acts  ;  is  described  as  oc- 
cupying a  leading  place  in  the  worst  state  of 
heathenism,  in  the  worst  times  of  the  apostacy, 
and  in  the  worst  characters  of  those  times  ;    and 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  131 

has  the  worst  sins  for  its  appropriate  emblems, 
and  its  nearest  kindred,  and  **  all  evil  "  in  its 
train. 

To  exaggerate  the  evils  of  a  passion  which  ex- 
hibits such  a  monopoly  of  guilt,  would  certainly 
be  no  easy  task.  It  has  systematized  deceit, 
and  made  it  a  science. 

Cunning  is  its  chosen  counsellor  and  guide. 
It  linds  its  way,  as  by  instinct,  through  all  the 
intricacies  of  the  great  labyrinth  of  fraud.  It 
parts  with  no  company,  and  refuses  no  aid, 
through  fear  of  contamination.  Blood  is  not  too 
sacred  for  it  to  buy,  nor  religion  too  divine  for 
it  to  sell.  From  the  first  step  in  fraud  to  the 
dreadful  consummation  of  apostacy  or  murder, 
covetousness  is  familiar  with  every  step  of  the 
long,  laborious,  and  fearful  path.  Could  we 
only  see  it  embodied,  what  a  monster  should  we 
behold  !  Its  eyes  have  no  tears.  With  more 
than  the  fifty  hands  of  the  fabled  giant  it  grasps 
at  every  thing  around.  In  its  march  through 
the  world,  it  has  been  accompanied  by  artifice 
and  fraud,  rapine  and  injustice,  cruelty  and 
murder  ;  while  behind  it  have  dragged  heavily 
its  swarms  of  victims — humanity  bleeding,  and 
justice  in  chains,  and  religion  expiring  under  its 
heavy  burdens,  orphans,  and  slaves,  and  op- 
pressed hirelings,  a  wailing  multitude,  reaching 
to  the  skirts  of  the  horizon  ;  and  thus  dividing 
the  earth  between  them,  (for  how  small  the 
number  of  those  who  were  not  to  be  found  either 
triumphing  in  its  van  or  suffering  in  its  train,)  it 
has,  more  than  any  other  conqueror,  realised 
12* 


132  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

the  ambition  of  gaining  the  whole  world,  of 
establishing  a  universal  empire.  From  the  first 
step  of  its  desolating  course,  its  victims  began 
to  appeal  to  God  ;  and,  as  it  has  gone  on  in  its 
guilty  career,  their  cries  have  been  thickening 
and  gathering  intenseness  at  every  step,  and  in 
every  age,  till  the  whole  creation,  aiding  them 
in  their  mighty  grief,  has  become  vocal  with  woe 
and  their  cries  have  ascended,  "  and  entered 
into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth."  "  And 
shall  I  not  visit  for  these  things,  saith  the  Lord  ?  " 
Even  now  his  ministers  of  wrath  are  arming 
against  it.  Even  now  the  sword  of  ultimate 
justice  is  receiving  a  keener  edge  for  its  destruc- 
tion :  it  is  at  large  only  by  respite  and  suffer- 
ance, from  moment  to  moment.  During  each  of 
these  moments,  its  accumulation  of  pelf  is  only 
an  accumulation  "  of  w  rath  against  the  day  of 
wrath."  And  when  those  dreadful  stores  shall 
be  finally  distributed  among  the  heirs  of  wrath, 
covetousness  shall  be  loaded  with  the  most  ample 
and  awful  portion.  Its  vast  capacity,  enlarged 
by  its  perpetual  craving  after  what  it  had  not, 
shall  only  render  it  a  more  capacious  vessel  of 
wrath,  fitted  to  destruction. 

From  this  scriptural  representation  of  the 
guilt  of  covetousness,  let  us  proceed  to  consider 
some  of  the  specific  evils  which  it  inflicts  on 
Christians  individually,  on  the  visible  church, 
and,  through  these,  on  the  world. 

Were  it  our  object  to  present  a  complete  cata- 
logue of  the  injuries  which  it  inflicts  on  religion, 
we  should  begin  by  adverting  to  the  fact,  that  it 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  133 

detains  numbers  from  God.  Careful  and  troub- 
led about  many  tilings,  they  entirely  neglect 
the  one  thing  needful.  The  world  retains  them 
so  effectually  in  its  service,  that  they  have  no 
time,  no  heart,  to  spare  for  religion  ;  and  though 
some  of  them  at  times  may  cast  a  wistful  glance 
in  that  direction,  and  even  steal  a  visit,  in  thought, 
to  the  Savior's  feet,  yet,  like  their  prototype  in 
the  gospel,  they  "  go  away  sorrowing,"  for  the 
spell  of  mammon  is  upon  them. 

As  to  the  professor  of  Christianity,  the  evil  in 
question  operates  to  his  injury,  partly  by  engaging 
so  much  of  that  energy  for  the  world,  the  whole 
of  which  would  not  have  been  too  much  for  re- 
ligion. The  obstacles  to  the  salvation  of  a  man 
are  so  numerous  and  formidable,  that  the  Scrip- 
tures represent  his  ultimate  success  as  depending 
on  his  "  giving  all  diligence  to  it."  In  the  econ- 
omy of  salvation,  therefore,  God  graciously  un- 
dertakes to  watch  over  and  provide  for  his  tem- 
poral wants,  that,  being  relieved  from  all  dis- 
traction from  that  quarter,  he  might  be  able  to 
bend  and  devote  his  chief  strength  to  the  attain- 
ment of  heaven.  But,  in  guilty  counteraction 
of  this  arrangement,  the  covetous  professor  di- 
vides his  forces  between  these  two  objects  most 
disproportionately.  He  has  but  just  sufficient 
fuel  to  offer  up  a  sacrifice  to  God,  and  yet  he 
consumes  the  principal  part  of  it  in  sacrificing 
to  mammon.  The  undivided  powers  of  his 
mind  would  not  be  too  much  for  the  claims  of 
religion,  and  yet  he  severs  and  sends  the  greater 
proportion  of  his  strength  in  an  opposite  direc- 


134  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

tion.  The  consequence  is,  that  his  piety  is  kept 
in  a  low,  doubtful,  disgraceful  state.  His  relig- 
ious course  is  marked  with  hesitation  and  em- 
barrassment. The  cares  of  this  world,  and  the 
deceitfulness  of  riches,  engross  the  feeling  which 
is  the  appropriate  soil  of  religion,  and  which  be- 
longs to  it  alone.  And  to  expect  to  reap  the 
fruits  of  Christian  benevolence  from  such  a  mind, 
would  be  to  look  for  grapes  from  thorns,  and  figs 
from  thistles. 

Nor  does  covetousness  operate  less  injuriously 
by  taking  off  his  supreme  trust  from  God,  and 
giving  it  to  the  world.  If  a  staff  be  placed  in 
the  hand  of  a  bent  and  feeble  man,  what  more 
natural  than  that  he  should  lean  on  it?  Man  is 
that  impotent  traveller,  and  wealth  is  the  staff 
which  offers  to  support  his  steps.  Hence,  in  the 
word  of  God,  it  is  repeatedly  intimated  that  to 
possess  riches,  and  to  trust  in  them,  is  one  and 
the  same  thing,  exce}»t  where  grace  makes  the 
distinction.  The  term  mammon^  for  instance, 
according  to  its  derivation,  imports  whatever 
men  are  apt  to  confide  in.  The  original  term  for 
faith  is  of  the  same  derivation,  and  for  the  same 
reason — because  it  implies  such  a  reliance  on 
God  as  the  worldly  mind  places  on  riches.  So 
that  mammon  came  to  signify  riches,  because 
men  so  commonly  put  their  trust  on  them.  And 
when  our  Lord  perceived  the  astonishment  he 
had  excited  by  exclaiming  "  How  hardly  shall 
they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,*'  the  only  explanation  which  he  gave, 
and  which  he  deemed  sufficient,  imported,   that 


OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


135 


as  the  danfi^er  of  riches  consisted  in  trustinjr  in 
tliem,  so  the  difliciilty  of  possessiiicr  thein,  and 
not  frusiins:  in  them,  is  next  to  an  impossibility 
— a  difficulty  wliich  can  only  be  surmounted  by 
omnipotent  grace. 

Now,  to  trust  in  any  created  object,  is  to  par- 
take of  its  littlenes*«,  mutability  and  debasement. 
But  money  is  a  creature  of  circumstances,  the 
sport  of  every  wind  ;  the  Christian  mammonist, 
therefore  can  only  resemble  the  object  of  his 
trust.  By  choosing  a  heavenly  treasure,  and 
making  it  the  object  of  paramount  regard,  he 
would  have  crradually  received  the  impress  of  its 
cel(?stial  attributes  ;  but  by  giving  his  heart  to 
earthly  gain,  he  identifies  himself  with  all  its 
earthly  qualities;  lets  himself  down,  and  adapts 
himseif  to  his  insignificance  ;  and  vibrates  to  all 
its  fluctuations,  as  if  the  world  were  an  organized 
body,  of  which  he  was  the  pulse. 

The  inconsistencies  in  which  his  covetous  at- 
tachments involve  him,  are  grievous  and  many. 
His  enlightened  judgment  impels  him  for  happi- 
ness in  one  direction,  and  his  earthly  inclina- 
tions draw  him  in  another.  In  the  morning, 
and  at  night,  probably,  he  prays,  "  Lead  us  not 
into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil  ;"  and 
yet,  during  the  interval,  he  pursues  the  material 
of  temptation  with  an  avidity  not  to  be  exceeded 
by  the  keenest  worldling.  lie  hears,  without 
rpiestioning,  our  Lord's  declaration  concerning 
the  danirer  of  riches;  and  yet,  though  he  is  al- 
ready laden  with  the  thick  day,  and  is  daily 
augmenting  his  load,   he  doubts  not  of  passing 


136  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

through  the  eye  of  the  needle,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  He  professes  to  be  the  only  steward  of 
his  property;  and  yet  wastes  it  on  himself,  as  if 
he  were  its  irresponsible  master.  He  pretends 
to  be  an  admirer  of  men  who  counted  not  their 
lives  dear  unto  them,  provided  they  might  serve 
the  cause  of  Christ ;  and  yet  he  almost  endures 
a  martyrdom  in  sacrificing  a  pittance  of  his 
money  to  the  cause  ;  while  to  give  more  than  that 
pittance,  especially  if  it  involved  an  act  of  self- 
denial,  is  a  martyrdom  he  never  thought  of  suf- 
fering. He  prays  for  the  world's  conversion, 
and  yet  holds  back  one  of  the  means  with  which 
God  has  entrusted  him  to  aid  that  specific  ob- 
ject. He  professes  to  have  given  himself  up 
voluntarily  and  entirely  to  Christ ;  and  yet  has 
to  be  urged  and  entreated  to  relinquish  his  hold 
on  a  small  sum  which  would  benefit  the  church. 
Indeed,  the  truths  and  means  of  salvation  appear 
to  have  been  so  designedly  arranged  by  God  to 
condemn  the  covetous  professor,  that  were  he 
not  blinded  by  passion,  and  kept  in  countenance 
by  so  numerous  a  fellowship,  he  would  hear  a 
rebuke  in  every  profession  he  utters,  and  meet 
with  condemnation  at  every  step  he  takes. 

Covetousness  frequently  serves  in  the  stead  of 
a  thousand  bonds  to  hold  a  religious  professor 
in  league  with  the  world.  Indeed,  the  sin  may 
be  much  more  potent  in  him  than  in  many  of  the 
avowed  ungodly  around  him.  In  them,  it  has 
to  divide  the  heart  with  other  sinful  propensities  ; 
but  in  him,  perhaps,  it  reigns  alone.  They  can 
range  and  wander   at  will  over  a  larger  field  of 


OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


137 


sinful  indulfrences,  but  he  ia  restricted  to  this 
single  gratification.  As  a  Christian  professor, 
he  riiust  abstain  from  intemperance,  licentious- 
ness, and  profanity;  but  woridliness  is  a  sphere 
in  which  he  may  indulge  to  a  certain  extent 
without  suspicion,  for  the  indulgence  comes  not 
within  human  jurisdiction.  If  he  would  be 
thought  a  Christian,  he  must  not  be  seen  ming- 
ling in  certain  society,  nor  indulging  in  a  certain 
class  of  worldly  amusements;  but,  without  at  all 
endangering  his  Christian  reputation,  he  may 
emulate  the  most  worldly  in  the  embellishment 
of  his  house,  the  decoration  of  his  person,  the 
splendor  of  his  equipage,  or  the  luxury  of  his 
table.  Accordingly,  the  only  apparent  difference 
between  him  and  them,  is — not  in  the  greater 
moderation  of  his  earthly  aims,  nor  in  the  supe- 
rior simplicity  of  his  tastes,  the  spiritual  eleva- 
tion of  his  pursuits,  the  enlarged  benevolence 
and  Christian  devotedness  of  his  life — but,  that 
the  time  which  they  occupy  in  spending,  he  em- 
ploys in  accumulating;  the  energies  which  they 
waste  in  worldly  pleasures,  he  exhausts  in  world- 
ly pursuits  ;  the  property  which  they  devote  to 
amusements  abroad,  he  lavishes  on  indulgences 
at  home  ;  and  while  they  are  pursuing  their  grat- 
ification in  one  direction,  he  is  indemnifying  him- 
self for  not  joining  them  by  pursuing  his  grat- 
ification as  eagerly  in  another.  The  loss  of  one 
of  the  bodily  senses,  it  is  said,  quickens  the  per- 
ception of  those  that  remain  ;  woridliness  alone 
remains  to  him,  and  that  is  quickened  and 
strengthened  by  perpetual  exercise.     All  that  is 


138  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

iinsanctified  in  liis  nature  flows  from  the  fountain 
of  his  heart  with  the  greater  force,  that  it  has 
only  this  one  channel  in  which  to  run.  He  may 
therefore  be  the  more  worldly  in  reality,  for  not 
allowing  himself  to  be  worldly  in  ap[)earance. 
His  worldliness  is  only  compressed  into  a  smaller 
compass.  Profess  what  he  may,  and  stand  as 
high  as  he  may  in  the  opinion  of  his  fellow- 
professors,  he  is  essentially  a  worldly  man.  The 
world  has  its  sects  as  well  as  the  church,  and  he 
may  be  said  to  belong  to  one  of  the  "  stricter 
sects  "  of  the  world. 

Covetousness  generates  discontent ;  and  this 
is  an  element  with  which  no  Christian  grace  can 
long  be  held  in  atVinity.  It  magnities  trivial 
losses,  and  diminishes  the  most  magnificent 
blessings  to  a  point  ;  it  thinks  highly  of  the 
least  sacrifice  which  it  may  grudgingly  make  in 
the  cause  of  God,  feels  no  enterprise  in  his  service, 
and  never  considers  itself  at  liberty  to  leave  its 
little  circle  of  decent  selfishness,  in  which  it  mur- 
murs on  account  of  what  it  has  not  are  always 
louder  that  its  thanks  for  what  it  has.  **  Let 
your  conversation,"  therefore,  says  the  apostle, 
"  be  without  covetousness,  and  be  content  with 
such  things  as  ye  have."  '•  Godliness,  with  con- 
tentment, is  great  gain." 

Covetousness  neutralizes  the  effect  of  the 
preaching  of  tiie  gospel.  The  Savior  saw  this 
abundantly  verified  in  his  own  ministry  ;  and  his 
parable  of  the  sower  intimated,  that  his  minis- 
ters would  see  it  exemplified  in  theirs  also.  The 
judgment  of  the  hearer,  it  may  be,  is  convinced 


OP    GOVETOUSNESS.  I6\f 

of  tho  divinity  of  rrlifjion  ;  he  feels  its  power, 
and  trenibk's  ;  lie  Ixiliolds  its  attractions,  and  is 
captivated.  And  could  he,  at  sncli  a  time,  be 
detached  awhile  from  liis  worldly  purf-uits,  and 
he  closely  plied  with  the  melting  and  majestic 
clainis  of  the  gospel,  he  might,  by  the  agency  of 
the  Holy  S[)irit,  be  induced  to  lay  up  for  him- 
s<dr  a  treasure  in  heaven.  But  the  seed  has 
fallen  among  thorns;  "The  cares  of  this  world 
and  the  dcceiifulness  of  riches  choke  the  word, 
and  render  it  unfruitful."  His  impressions  are 
written  in  sand  ;  and  no  sooner  does  he  leave 
the  house  of  God,  than  his  worldly  plans  and 
prospects  come  back  like  the  returning  tide,  and 
utterly  efface  them. 

Closely  allied  with  this  evil  are  formality  and 
liypocrisy  in  religion.  "  They  spejik  one  to 
another,  every  one  to  his  brother,  saying.  Come, 
1  pray  you,  and  hear  what  is  the  word  that  Com- 
eth forth  from  the  Lord.  And  they  come  unto 
thee  as  the  people  cornelh,  and  they  sit  before 
thee  as  my  people;  and  they  hear  thy  words,  but 
they  will  not  do  them :  for  with  their  mouth 
they  siiow  much  love,  but  their  hearts  goeth  aftef 
their  covetousncss."  'i'o  the  eye  of  Omniscience 
they  present  the  hateful  spectacle  of  so  many 
pieces  of  solemn  formality  going  through  the  at- 
titudes and  signs  of  devotion,  but  d(!stitute  of  all 
corresponding  emotions  within.  He  asks  for 
the  heart  alone  ;  but  they  have  brought  him  all 
excopt  the  heart.  That  is  far  away,  in  the 
mart,  the  field,  the  business  of  the  world,  "  buy- 
ing and  selling,  and  getting  gain." 
13 


140 


THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 


In  connexion  with  this  formality,  there  will 
necessarily  exist  a  weariness  and  impatience 
under  the  restraints  of  the  Sabbath.  The  worldly 
professor  feels  during  the  sacred  hours  as  if 
every  thing  important  were  standing  still.  He 
is  not  sensible  of  any  need  for  a  day  of  rest,  for 
the  world  does  not  tire  him,  or  tires  him  only  as 
a  fatiguing  pleasure  to  which  he  is  anxious  to 
return  with  renewed  zest.  And,  until  he  can 
so  return,  the  language  of  his  heart,  in  relation 
to  the  Sabbath,  is,  *'  Behold  what  a  weariness 
is  it  !  " 

But  if  religion  be  irksome  to  a  person  because 
it  interrupts  his  worldly  pursuits,  it  is  but  a  short 
and  easy  step  for  him  to  turn  religion  itself  into 
traffic.  "  Godliness  ....  is  gain  ;  "  but  he  re- 
verses the  proposition,  and  "  supposes  that  gain 
is  godliness."  Like  the  ancient  Jews,  he  would 
crowd  the  temple  courts  with  "  the  tables  of  the 
money-changers,"  and  convert  the  sanctuary  it- 
self into  the  palace  of  mammon.  His  motive 
for  assembling  with  the  worshippers  of  God  may 
be  expressed  in  the  language  of  the  Shechemites, 
\Yhen  adopting  the  religious  rites  of  the  sons  of 
Jacob  :  "  Shall  not  their  cattle,  and  their  sub- 
stance, and  every  beast  of  theirs,  be  ours  1 " 
But  as  the  ruling  principle  of  his  conduct  is  gain, 
the  same  principle  which  induced  them  to  assume 
religion,  may  lead  him  to  renounce  it,  and  to 
"draw  back  to  perdition." 

How  many  who  had  apparently  deserted  the 
service  of  the  world,  and  enrolled  themselves 
among  the  servants  of  God,  does  covetousness 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  141 

again  reclaim,  and  swear  them  to  allegiance 
atVesl).  "  They  did  run  well,"  but  the  fable  of 
Atalanta  became  their  history — a  golden  bait 
was  cast  in  their  path;  they  stopped  to  take  it, 
and  lost  the  race.  In  how  touchmg  a  manner 
does  the  apostle  refer  to  the  fatal  declension  of 
some — probably  living  characters,  known  both 
to  himself  and  Timothy — and  impute  their  apos- 
tacy  entirely  to  their  avarice,  "  Money,"  .... 
saith  he,  "  which  while  some  coveted  after,  they 
have  erred  from  the  faith,  and  pierced  them- 
selves through  with  many  sorrows."  And  how 
likely  is  it  that  Bunyan  drew  from  personal  obser- 
vation, when,  in  his  inimitable  allegory,  he  de- 
scribes the  professed  pilgrims,  Hold-the-world, 
Money-love,  Save-all,  and  By-ends — names  which 
still  stand  for  living  realities — as  leaving  the 
road,  at  the  solicitation  of  Demas,  to  look  at  a 
silver  mine  "  in  a  little  hill  called  Lucre." 
"  Now,"  he  adds,  "  whether  they  fell  into  the 
pit  by  looking  over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether 
they  went  down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were 
smothered  in  the  bottom  by  the  damps  that  com- 
monly arise,  of  these  things  lam  not  certain; 
hut  this  I  observed,  that  they  never  were  seen 
again  in  the  way." 

But  where  covetousness  does  not  lead  the  pro- 
fessed believer  to  o|)en  apostacy,  it  involves 
him  in  the  guilt  of  idolatry ;  and  this,  in  the  eye 
of  Scripture,  is  a  step  beyond.  If  the  former 
be  the  rejection  of  the  true  God,  the  latter  is  the 
adoption  of  a  false  one.  Endeavor  to  escape 
from  the  charge  as    he  may,  his  covetousness  is 


142  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS. 

idolatry.  The  general  impression,  on  hearing 
this  proposition,  is,  that  the  term  idulatry  is  only 
employed  by  the  apoislle  in  an  accominodated 
sense — that  covetousiiess  is  only  figurative  idol- 
atry. But  in  the  figure  lies  its  force.  There 
is  not  more  essential  idolatry  at  this  moment, 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  than  that  which  the  av- 
aricious man  pays  to  his  gold.  The  ancient 
Persian,  who  adored  the  sun  o?ili/  as  the  visible 
image  of  God,  was  guiltless  of  idolatry  compared 
with  him.  And  the  only  pretence  he  can  have 
for  saying  he  is  not  guilty,  is,  that  he  does  not 
perform  acts  of  bodily  prostration  before  it.  But 
acts  of  mere  formal  homage  are  no  more  neces- 
sary to  constitute  a  man  a  worshipper  of  mam- 
mon, than  they  are  to  render  him  a  real  wor- 
shipper of  God  ;  ill  each  instance,  the  homage  of 
the  heart  is  in  the  stead  of  all  outward  prostra- 
tions. And  does  not  his  gold  receive  that  ?  Is 
not  his  heart  a  temple  from  which  God  has  been 
excluded,  in  order  to  make  room  for  mammon  ? 
While  he  worships  God,  formally,  as  if  He  were 
only  an  idol,  does  he  not  accord  to  his  gold  as 
much  cordiality  as  if  it  were  God  ?  regarding  it 
with  all  those  deep  feelings,  and  mental  glances, 
of  confidence,  which  should  be  reserved  for  God 
alone  ?  The  idols  of  the  heathen  stood,  so  to 
speak,  between  heaven  and  earth,  obscuring  the 
vision  of  God,  intercepting,  and  appropriating  the 
incense  which  should  have  ascended  to  the  eter- 
nal throne ;  and  does  not  his  gold,  instead  of 
leading  his  thoughts  in  gratitude  to  God,  stand 
between  him  and  the  Divine  Being,  concealing 


OF  COVETOUSNESS.  143 

God  from  his  view,  engrossing  his  thouglit  to  it- 
self, and  filling  him  with  that  satisfaction  which 
the  soul  should  find  in  God  alone?  If  his  gold 
could  be  endowed  with  the  power  of  perception, 
would  it  not  be  tempted  to  think  itself  a  Godi 
If  it  possessed  the  power  of  reading  his  heart 
towards  it,  would  it  not  find  its  image  enshrined 
there  ?  and  a  degree  of  aftection  lavished  on  it, 
and  a  closeness  of  communion  maintained  with 
it,  such  as  a  god  might  accept  1  His  covetousness 
is  idolatry ^ 

Among  the  fatal  evils  inflicted  by  covetousness 
on  the  church  collectively,  the  corruption  of  its 
doctrines,  and  deterioration  of  its  piety,  form 
one  of  the  greatest  magnitude.  This  it  has 
done  in  two  ways  ;  first  by  obtruding  men  into 
the  sacred  ofiice  who  have  taught  erroneous 
doctrine  as  zealously  as  if  it  had  been  true ; 
and,  secondly,  by  obtruding  others  who  have 
taught  an  orthodox  creed,  with  which  they  had 
no  sympathy,  as  coldly  and  heartlessly  as  if  it 
had  been  false.  The  former  have  been  founders 
of  heretical  sects  and  propagators  of  a  spurious 
piety  ;  the  latter  have  contributed  to  lay  all  piety 
to  sleep,  and  to  turn  the  church  itself  into  the 
tomb  of  religion.  The  former  have  often  jjrop/i- 
esied falsely ,  because  the  people  loved  to  have  it 
so,  consulting  the  depraved  tastes  of  those  who 
iDould  not  endure  s$$iiid  doctrine  ;  the  latter  have 
consulted  only  their  own  tastes,  which  sought 
no  higher  gratification  than  the  sordid  gains  of 

ofiice.     "Wo  unto  to  them  ! for  they  have 

run  greedily  after  the  error  of  Balaam  for   re- 
13* 


144  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

ward."  "A  heart  they  have  exercised  with 
covetous  practices;  cursed  children, ....  fol- 
lowing the  way  of  Balaam,  the  son  of  Bosor, 
who  loved  the  wages  of  unrighteousness."  Like 
him,  both  have  equally,  and  for  the  same  rea- 
sons, labored  in  effect  to  "  curse  the  children  of 
Israel."  Like  the  Pharisees  of  old,  both  have 
equally,  and  for  the  same  reasons,  **  made  long 
prayers"  their  pretence,  but  the  "  devouring  of 
widows'  houses "  their  end.  Like  Judas,  both 
have  equally,  and  for  the  same  reasons,  betrayed 
the  Son  of  God  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 
Like  Simon  Magus,  both  have  trafficked  in  the 
things  of  God.  Bothalike  have  been  **  greedy 
of  filthy  lucre  ;  "  have  obrruded  into  the  courts  of 
the  Lord ;  taken  up  a  position  between  God  and 
man;  and,  through  covetousness,  have  made 
merchandise  of  human  souls.  They  have  brought 
the  world  into  the  church ;  and  have  sold  the 
church  to  the  world.  This  is  the  triumph,  the 
apotheosis  of  Mammon,  Piety  has  left  the  tem- 
ple weeping  at  the  sight;  morality  itself  has 
been  loud  in  its  condemnation ;  an  ungodly 
world  has  triumphed,  and  "  the  Son  of  God  been 
crucified  afresh,  and  put  to  an  open  shame." 
"Wo!  unto  them!" 

The  magnitude  of  this  evil  is  further  apparent 
in  the  fact,  that  it  has  not  only  threatened  to 
frustrate  the  design  of  the  Cliristian  Church,  as 
the  instrument  of  the  world's  conversion,  but 
has  done  more  than  any  other  sin  towards  the 
fulfilment  of  the  threat.  That  our  blessed  Lord 
consecrated  his  church  to  the  high  office  of  con- 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  145 

verting  the  world,  is  evident  from  the  final  com- 
mand which  he  gave  it,  to  go  and  preach  his 
gospel  to  every  creature.  That  the  execution 
of  this  sacred  trust  would  be  endangered  prin- 
cipally by  a  spirit  of  covetousness,  was  possibly 
presignified  by  the  sin  of  Judas.  But  a  more 
emphatic  intimation  of  the  same  danger  had  been 
given  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish  church;  for 
ihe Jirst  sin  of  that  church  in  Canaan,  as  we 
have  remarked  already,  was  in  the  accursed  things 
when  Israel  fled  before  the  men  of  Ai.  And 
was  there  not  a  still  more  significant  intimation 
afforded,  in  the  earliest  days  of  the  Christian 
church,  of  danger  from  the  same  quarter]  its 
very  Jirst  sin  consisted  in  one  of  its  members 
keeping  hack  part  of  his  property  through  covet- 
ousness. Whether  or  not  these  intimations  were 
necessary,  we  will  leave  the  history  of  the  sub- 
sequent corruptions  of  Christianity  to  testify. 

But  even  since  the  church  ceased  to  be  the 
vortex  of  the  world's  wealth,  since  the  period 
ceased  when  it  gloried  to  repeat  the  Laodicean 
boast,  "  I  am  rich  and  increased  in  goods,  and 
have  need  of  nothing," — has  benevolence  been 
one  of  its  characteristics  1  The  unrepealed 
command  of  Christ  has  been  known  to  its  mem- 
bers; they  have  had  the  means  of  carrying  it 
extensively  into  eff*ect ;  millions  of  their  fellow- 
creatures  have  been  passing  into  eternity,  age 
after  age,  unsaved  ;  but  their  talent,  meanwhile, 
if  not  hid  in  a  napkin,  has  been  multiplied 
chiefly  for  their  own  use.  Their  worldly  pros- 
perity has  so  completely   engrossed   them,  that 


146  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

tliey  have  tbougbt  it  quite  sufficient  to  attend  to 
their  own  salvation,  while  the  world  around  them 
has  been  left  to  perish. 

If  this  be  innocence,  what  is  guilt  1  If  this  be 
venial  negligence,  what  is  aggravated  criminali- 
ty 1  It  is  a  sin  which  exceeds  all  computation. 
Let  it  be  supposed  that  at  some  past  period  in 
the  history  of  Britain,  news  had  arrived  of  an 
awful  visitation  of  nature,  by  which  one  of  her 
distant  colonies  is  in  a  state  of  famine.  Multi- 
tudes have  died,  numbers  are  dying,  all  are  ap- 
proaching the  point  of  starvattion.  Besides 
which,  a  powerful  enemy  is  gathering  on  their 
frontiers,  and  threatening  to  hasten  the  work  of 
death.  The  government  at  home  opens  its 
stores ;  public  charity  bursts  forth  and  pours  re- 
lief through  a  thousand  channels.  A  fleet  is 
freighted  with  the  precious  means  of  life,  and 
despatched  to  the  scene  of  suffering,  wafted  by 
the  sighs  and  prayers  of  the  nation.  For  a  time 
it  steers  direct  for  its  object.  But  having  lost 
sight  of  land,  the  ardor  of  those  employed,  abates. 
Though  engaged  in  a  commission  which  angels 
might  envy,  their  impressions  of  its  importance 
fade  from  their  minds.  A  group  of  islands  lies 
in  their  course,  and  though  far  short  of  their 
destination,  they  decide  to  call.  Prospects  of 
mercantile  advantages  here  present  themselves; 
the  spirit  of  gain  takes  possession  of  them  ;  they 
cire  inclined,  solicited,  prevailed  on,  to  remain. 
Their  original  object  of  mercy  is  forgotten,  the 
stores  of  life  with  which  they  had  been  entrusted 
are  used  and  bartered    as   if  intended  only  for 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  147 

themselves  ;  ami  thus  an  enterprise  of  benefi- 
cence on  which  God  had  smiled,  sinks  into  a 
batie  mercamile  adventure. 

"But  the  supposition  is  impossible;  if  any 
thing  in  the  least  resembling  it  had  ever  transpired, 
humanity  would  have  wept  at  it, — religion  would 
have  turned  from  the  tale  with  horror  ;  it  would 
have  been  viewed  as  an  ineffaceable  stain  on  our 
national  character,  at  which  every  cheek  would 
have  blushed  and  burned."  Impossible,  in  the 
sense  supposed ;  but  in  a  higher  sense  it  has 
been  realised,  and  far,  far  exceeded.  The 
world  was  perishing;  the  compassion  of  God 
was  moved  ;  the  means  of  salvation  were  pro- 
vided— and,  O!  at  how  costly  a  price  ! — the 
church  was  charged  to  convey  them  without  de- 
lay to  her  dying  fellow-men,  and  to  pause  not  in 
iier  office  of  mercy  till  the  last  sinner  had  enjoy- 
ed the  means  of  recovery.  For  a  time,  the  god- 
like trust  was  faithfully  executed.  "An  angel 
flying  through  the  midst  of  heaven,"  was  an  apt 
representation  of  the  directn€ss  and  speed  with 
which  the  church  prosecuted  her  task.  Jesus 
beheld  the  travail  of  his  soul  and  was  satisfied. 
Souls  were  snatched  as  brands  from  the  burning. 
But  a  change  came  over  her  conduct.  The 
spirit  of  the  world  returned,  and  cast  a  spell  on 
her  movements.  Continents  were  yet  to  be 
visited,  and  mdlions  to  be  rescued,  when  she 
paused  in  her  onward  cause.  Immortal  men 
continued  to  perish  by  nations  ;  but  the  agents 
of  mercy  had  abandoned  their  work.  As  if  the 
stores  of  life,  with  which  they  were  intrusted, 


148  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

had  been  intended  solely  for  their  own  use,  they 
began  to  live  unto  themselves.  An  enterprise  of 
mercy,  in  which  God  had  embarked  his  highest 
glory,  and  which  involved  the  happiness  of  the 
world,  was  arrested,  and  lost  to  myriads,  by  a 
spirit  of  worldly  gain.  For,  if,  at  any  given  pe- 
riod after  the  first  age  of  the  Christian  church, 
the  professed  agents  of  mercy  had  been  sought 
for,  how  would  the  great  majority  of  them  have 
been  found  occupied  and  engrossed  but  in  "  buy- 
ing, and  selling,  and  getting  gain."  "  Each 
one,"  says  Cyprian,  as  early  as  the  middle  of  the 
third  century, — "each  one  studies  how  to  in- 
crease his  patrimony,  and  forgetting  what  the 
faithful  did  in  apostolic  times,  or  what  they 
ought  always  to  do,  their  great  passion  is  an  in- 
satiable desire  of  enlarging  their  fortunes." 

This,  however,  is  not  the  extent  of  the  evil 
which  covetousness  inflicts  on  the  cause  of  human 
happiness.  It  has  not  only  rendered  the  major- 
ity of  professed  believers  useless  to  the  church, 
and  the  church,  for  ages  useless  to  the  world, 
but  through  these,  it  has  held  the  world  in  firm- 
er bonds  of  allegiance  to  sin,  than  would  other- 
wise have  existed. 

Your  devotedness  to  the  .world,  we  would  say 
to  the  Christian  mammonist,  tends  more  than 
any  of  the  arguments  of  infidelity  to  confirm 
men  in  their  insensibility  to  the  claims  of  the 
gospel.  That  gospel  found  you,  we  will  suppose, 
in  close  worldly  alliance  with  themselves;  wor- 
shippers together  in  the  temple  of  mammon  ; 
running  the  same  race  for  the  prize  of  wealth; 


OF  COVETOUSNESS.  149 

having  no  aims  or  desires  but  such  as  wealth 
could  ufratify;  and,  consequently,  bendini^  all 
your  endeavors  afier  it.  Sui»se(iuently,  however, 
you  profess  to  have  undergone  a  change  ;  and, 
when  they  hear  you  describe  the  nature  of  that 
chancre,  or  hear  it  described  for  you,  they  hear 
it  said  that  you  have  at  lenorth  found  the  pearl  of 
great  price  :  that  you  have  been  put  in  possession 
of  a  good  which  renders  you  independent  of  all 
inferior  things,  and  which  enables  you  to  look 
down  with  scorn  on  those  objects  about  which 
you  have  been  so  eager  and  selfish,  abandonit)g 
them  to  such  as  know  no  higher  good  ;  that 
henceforth  your  treasure  is  in  heaven,  and  there 
will  your  heart  be  also. 

They  hear  this,  and  are  amazed  !  They  have 
not  been  able  to  detect  the  slightest  abatement 
in  the  ardor  of  your  worldly  pursuits.  They 
find  you  still  among  their  keenest  competitors  in 
the  race  of  wealth.  What  new  object  of  affection 
you  may  have  adopted,  they  know  not ;  but  they 
will  readily  acquit  you  of  all  ingratitude  to  your 
first  love  ;  for  they  can  testify  that  your  pulse 
does  not  beat  less  truly  to  its  smiles  and  its 
frowns  than  it  did  when  you  knew  no  other  ob- 
ject of  regard.  Whatever  object  you  may  trust 
more,  they  know  not;  but  this  they  can  witness, 
that,  judging  from  your  conduct,  you  do  not 
trust  money  less  ;  and,  were  it  not  that  you  say 
so,  they  would  not  have  known  that  your  eye 
was  fixed  on  any  invisible,  dependence.  And 
when,  besides  this,  they  hear  you  admonished 
for  your   worldliness,  and   reproached  with    the 


150  THE    GUILT    AND    EVILS 

tenacity  of  your  grasp  on  wealth,  and  denounced 
for  your  devotion  to  self  and  your  want  of  devo- 
tion to  the  cause  of  your  new  adoption,  liow  can 
they  be  otherwise  than  confirmed  in  their  opinion 
that  your  profession  is  hypocrisy,  and  all  religion 
only  a  name  ?  And  the  effect  is,  to  deepen  the 
sleep  into  which  tiiey  have  sunk  in  the  arms 
of  the  world. 

We  all  know  the  persuasive  power  which  the 
example  of  the  martyrs  and  early  confessors  of 
the  cross  exercised  on  those  who  beheld  it. 
Their  entire  dedication  of  their  property  and 
lives  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  struck  at  the  very 
throne  of  Mammon.  '  Numbers  awoke  as  from  a 
dream  ;  for  the  first  time  suspected  the  omnip- 
otence of  wealth,  and  were  seized  with  a  noble 
disdain  of  it.  They  saw  men  advancing  with  the 
standard  of  a  new  kingdom  :  the  sincerity  of 
those  men  they  could  not  doubt,  for  they  beheld 
them,  in  their  onward  course,  sacrificing  their 
worldly  prospects,  trampling  on  their  wealth, 
and  smiling  on  confronting  death.  The  conta- 
gion of  their  example  they  could  not  resist ;  they 
fell  into  their  train,  and  enrolled  themselves  as 
their  fellow-subjects.  But  will  not  your  opposite 
example,  coinciding  as  its  worldly  influence 
does  with  the  natural  propensities  of  men,  operate 
far  more  powerfully  in  detaining  men  from 
Christ?  Has  your  conduct  ever  allured  them 
to  revolt  from  the  world  to  Christ  ?  Is  it  not 
more  likely  to  seduce  them  from  Christ,  than  to 
win  them  to  him  ?  And  is  this  thy  kindness  to 
thy  friend  ?     Has  He  who  died  for  you  deserved 


OF    COVETOUSNESS.  151 

tliis  at  your  hands?  He  intended  that,  hy  the 
evident  subordination  of  your  property  to  him, 
yoa  should  proclaim  to  the  world  your  conviction 
of  his  divine  superiority,  and  thus  aim  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  his  subjects  ;  whereas 
your  evident  attachment  to  it,  tells  them  there  is 
a  rival  interest  in  your  heart,  weakens  their  con- 
viction of  your  religious  sincerity,  and  thus  ren- 
ders your  wealth  subservient  to  the  empire  of 
Satan. 

"  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covetous,  whom 
the  Lord  abhorreth."  In  order  that  you  may  see 
the  guilt  of  your  conduct  in  its  true  light,  reflect, 
that  the  inordinate  love  of  wealth,  by  disparag- 
ing and  forsaking  the  only  true  standard  of  ex- 
cellence, has  introduced  an  irreconcilable  vari- 
ance between  the  divine  and  the  human  estimate 
of  every  thing  possessing  a  moral  quality  ;  and 
that  you,  who  ought  to  be  giving  your  voice 
for  God  against  the  world,  are  virtually  siding 
with  the  world  against  him,  and  acquitting  and 
applauding  the  man  whom  the  Lord  condemns. 

Tlie  determinate  influence  of  money,  we  say, 
appears  in  this — that  it  comes  at  length  to  erect 
a  new  standard  of  judgment,  to  give  laws,  and 
to  found  an  empire,  in  contradistinction  from  the 
divine  empire.  The  law  of  God  proclaims, 
"Thou  shalt  not  covet; "  but  in  the  kingdom 
of  Mammon  this  law  is  virtually  repealed,  and 
it  is  made  lawful  for  all  his  subjects  to  covet, 
provided  only  they  covet  according  to  rule — 
submit  to  a  few  easy  conventional  regulations. 
They  possess  a  code  of  their  own,  by  which  a 
14 


]52  THE  GUILT    AND    EVILS 

thousand  actions  are  made  legal,  and  have  be- 
come familiar,  thouo:h  at  evident  variance  with 
the  divine  code.  The  authorities  they  plead, 
are  such  as  custom,  convenience,  example,  utility, 
expedience;  "Yet  their  posterity  approve  their 
sayings."  And  their  highest  sanctions  are,  the 
fear  of  loss,  and  the  hope  of  gain;  for  "  God  is 
not  in  all  their  thoughts."  In  his  kingdom,  the 
safety  of  his  soul  is  placed  above  all  other  consid- 
erations ;  in  theirs,  it  is  treated  as  an  imperti- 
nence, and  expelled.  In  their  language,  wealth 
means  wisdom,  worth  happiness  ;  while  the  ex- 
planation which  he  gives  of  it  is  temptation^  van- 
ity, danger.  He  denominates  only  the  good  man, 
wise  ;  while  the  steadfast  and  admiring  gaze 
which  they  fasten  on  the  rich,  proclaims  that,  in 
their  estimation,  wealth  is  in  the  stead  of  all  other 
recommendations,  or  rather  an  abstract  of  them 
all.  And,  at  the  very  moment,  when  God  is 
pronouncing  the  doom  of  the  covetous,  and  com- 
manding hell  to  enlarge  itself  for  his  reception, 
they,  in  defiance  of  the  divine  decision,  are 
proud  to  catch  his  smiles,  and  to  offer  incense 
at  his  shrine.  "  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covet- 
ous, whom  the  Lord  abhorreth." 

Thus,  if  sin  has  produced  a  revolution  in  this 
part  of  the  divine  dominions,  it  seems  to  have 
been  the  effect  of  wealth  to  give  to  that  revolu- 
tion the  consolidation  of  a  well-organized  em- 
pire. Alas !  how  complete  its  arrangements, 
how  stable  and  invincible  its  power.  It  has 
enacted  new  laws  for  human  conduct,  given  new 
objects  to  human  ambition,  and  new  classifica- 


OP    COVETOUSNESS.  153 

tions  to  human  character  and  society ; — the 
whole  resultincT  in  a  kingdom  in  which  a  divine 
authority  is  uii;ickno\viedged,  and  from  wliich 
every  memento  ot"  the  divine  presence  is  jealously 
excluded. 

Now,  one  of  the  leading  purposes  of  God  in 
instituting  a  church,  is,  that,  in  tiie  midst  of  this 
awful  confederation  of  evil,  he  might  have  a 
people  perpetually  protesting  against  the  pre- 
vailing apostacy.  For  this  purpose,  he  gives 
them  himself,  that,  by  admitting  tliem  to  the 
Fountain,  he  might  raise  them,  before  the  eyes 
of  the  world,  to  an  independence  of  the  streams. 
And,  for  the  same  puri)Ose,  he  gives  them  a 
portion  of  earthly  property,  of  that  common  ob- 
ject of  worldly  trust,  that  they  might  have  an  op- 
portunity of  disparaging  it  before  the  world,  by 
subordinating  it  to  spiritual  ends,  and  thus  pub- 
licly vindicating  the  outraged  supremacy  of  the 
blessed  God. 

How  momentous  the  issue,  then,  depending 
on  the  manner  in  which  Christians  employ  their 
property.  By  their  visible  subordination  of  it  to 
God,  they  would  be  "  condemning  the  world," 
and  putting  a  lasting  disgrace  upon  its  idol ;  they 
would  be  distinguishing  themselves  from  the 
world  more  efiectually  than  by  assuming  the  most 
marked  badge,  or  by  making  the  most  ostenta- 
tious profession  ;  they  would  be  employing  the 
only  arguinent  for  the  reality  of  religion  which 
the  world  generally  will  regard,  which  it  cannot 
resist,  and  which  would  serve  in  the  stead  of  all 
ether  arguments.     Many  things  there  are  which 


154  THE  GUILT    AND    EVILS 

the  world  can  part  with,  many  sacrifices  which 
it  can  make,  in  imitation  of  the  Christian  ;  but  to 
*'  esteem  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches 
than  all  the  treasures  of  Egypt,"  to  sacrifice 
wealth,  is  an  immolation,  a  miracle  of  devoted- 
ness,  which  no  arts  of  worldly  enchantment  can 
imitate.  They  can  understand  how  reHgion  may 
be  subordinated  to  gain  ;  but  that  gain  should 
be  sacrificed  to  God,  is  a  mystery  which  no  ar- 
ticle in  their  creed,  no  principle  in  their  philos- 
ophy, can  explain.  O,  had  the  Christian  church 
been  true  to  its  original  design,  had  its  members 
realized  the  purposes  of  its  heavenly  Founder, 
they  would  have  chained  the  idol  wealth  to  the 
chariot  of  the  gospel,  and  have  led  it  in  triumph 
through  the  world. 

But  of  how  large  a  proportion  of  professing 
Christians  may  it  be  alleged,  that,  as  far  as  the 
church  was  intended  to  answer  this  end,  they 
have  conspired  to  frustrate  the  design  of  its  in- 
stitution. Their  property,  which  was  meant  to 
furnish  them  with  the  means  of  deprecating  and 
denouncing  the  wealth-idolatry  of  the  world, 
they  have  turned  into  an  occasion  of  joining  and 
strengthening  the  endangered  cause  of  the  world. 
Their  conduct  in  relation  to  the  gains  of  earth, 
which  was  intended  to  be  such  as  to  attract  the 
notice,  and  awaken  the  inquiries,  of  mankind, 
has  been  the  very  point  on  which  they  have  sym- 
bolized with  the  world  more  cordially  than  on 
any  other — standing  on  the  same  ground,  pur- 
suing the  same  ends,  governing  themselves  by  the 
same  maxims.     By  virtually  falling  down  before 


OP    COVETOUSNESS.  155 

the  golden  image  which  the  world  has  set  up, 
they  have  thrown  opprobrium  on  the  voluntary 
poverty  of  Christ,  obscured  the  distinctive  spirit- 
uality of  his  kingdom,  brought  into  question  the 
very  reahty  of  his  religion,  and  confirmed  and 
prolonged  the  reign  of  Mammon.  The  man 
who  deserts  his  post  in  the  day  of  battle,  and 
goes  over  to  the  enemy,  is  consigned  by  univer- 
sal consent  to  infamy  of  the  deepest  dye  ;  but 
they,  by  paying  homage  to  wealth,  have  betrayed 
a  cause  which  involves  infinite  results,  have  de- 
serted their  standard  in  the  time  of  conflict, 
joined  hands  with  the  common  foe,  and  thus  lent 
themselves  to  reinforce  and  establish  the  do- 
minion of  sin. 


14* 


SECTION   VIII. 


THE  DOOM   OF   COVETOUSNESS. 


If  the  guilt  of  covetousness  be  so  enormous, 
can  we  wonder  at  the  variety  of  methods  by 
which  a  gracious  God  seeks  to  prevent  it  1  or  at 
the  solemn  threatenings  which  a  holy  God  de- 
nounces against  it  ?  The  description  of  the  sin 
which  we  have  already  given,  so  evidently  in- 
volves its  condemnation,  that  on  this  part  of  the 
subject  we  shall  be  comparatively  brief. 

The  extreme  punishment  which  awaits  the 
practice  of  covetousness  may  be  inferred  from 
the  circumstance  that  the  tenth  command  de- 
nounces the  sin  in  its  earliest  form,  Unlike  the 
other  commands,  which,  taken  literally,  only 
prescribe  for  the  outward  conduct,  this  speaks  to 
the  heart.  It  does  not  merely  speak  to  the  eye, 
and  say,  thou  shalt  not  look  covetously.  It  does 
not  merely  speak  to  the  hand,  and  say,  thou  shalt 
not  grasp  covdousli/ ;  thou  shalt  not  steal ;  the 
law  had  said  this  before.     But,  instead  of  wait- 


THE    DOOM    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  157 

ing  for  the  eye  and  the  hand  to  do  this,  it  goes 
in  to  the  heart — "  for  out  of  the  heart  proceedeth 
covctousness  " — and  it  says  to  the  heart,  *'tliou 
shalt  not  covet."  And  hence  saith  the  apostle, 
"  I  had  not  known  the^  sinfulness  of  inordinate 
desire  if  the  law  had  not  said,  Thou  shalt  not 
covet."  It  lays  its  fiery  finger  upon  the  first 
movement  of  covetousness,  and^brands  it  ^as  a 
sin. 

Covetousness  is  a  sin  which,  more  than  most 
vices,  brings  with  it  its']  own  punishment.  The 
very  objects  which  excite  it,  form  a  rod  for  its 
chastisement.  How  perpetually  and  solicitously 
is  God  reminding  us  that  the  pursuit  of  these 
objects  is  attended  with  corroding  anxiety  and 
exhausting  toil  ;  that  they  are  jilthy  lucre  — 
leading  through  miry  ways  to  reach  them,  and 
polluting  the  hand  that  touches  them ;  that  they 
are  uncertain  riches — always  winged  for  flight* 
— so  delusive  and  unsubstantial  that  thei/  are  not, 
they  are  only  the  mirage  of  the  world's  desert  ; 
that  they  are  unsatisfactory — "  for  he  that  loveth 
silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  silver,  nor  he 
that  loveth  abundance  with  increase;  "  that  the 
possession  of  them  is  often  attended  with  morti- 
fication, and  a  separation  from  them  with  an- 
guish ;  in  a  word,  that  they  are  dangerous  and 
destructive,  leading  men   "  into  temptation   and 

*  Thiis  the  Greeks  spoke  of  PliUus,  the  god  of  riches,  as 
a  fickle  divinity ;  representing  him  as  blind,  to  intimate 
that  he  distributes  his  favors  indiscriminately ;  as  lame, 
to  denote  the  slowness  with  which  he  approaches;  and 
winged,  to  imply  the  velocity  with  which  he  Hies  away. 


158  THE  DOOM   OF    COVETOUSNESS* 

a  snare,  and  piercing  them  through  with  many 
sorrows  ;  "  and  thus,  in  their  very  nature,  they 
bring  with  them  a  part  of  the  doom  of  those  who 
covet  them.  Like  the  deadly  reptile  armed  with 
a  warning  rattle,  they  are  so  constituted  as  to 
apprize  us  of  the  danger  of  too  close  an  ap- 
proach. They  all  seem  to  say,  as  we  put  forth 
our  hand  to  take  them,  "  Do  not  covet  me — do 
not  take  me  to  your  heart,  or  I  shall  certainly 
disappoint,  and  injure,  if  not  ruin  you."  Were 
all  the  property  which  has  ever  passed  through 
the  hands  of  men  still  in  existence,  and  could 
we  hear  it  relate  the  history  of  those  who  have 
possessed  it,  what  tales  of  toil,  anxiety,  and 
guilt,  of  heartless  treachery,  and  fiendish  cir- 
cumvention, of  conscience  seared,  and  souls  lost, 
and  hell  begun  on  this  side  death,  would  it  have 
to  unfold  !  Might  we  not  well  recoil  from  it, 
and  exclaim,  "  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
riches,  but  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me 
— give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread." 

But  in  addition  to  the  punishment  which  the 
sin  involves  in  its  own  nature,  God  has  often 
visited  it  with  a  positive  infliction.  Instances  of 
this  fact  have  already  passed  in  review  before 
us.  Whether  we  advert  to  the  losses  and  suffer- 
ings of  Lot,  the  stoning  of  Achan,  the  leprosy  of 
Gehazi,  or  the  fate  of  Judas,  the  secret  of  their 
punishment  is  explained  when  the  Almighty  de- 
clares, "  For  the  iniquity  of  his  covetousness 
was  I  wroth,  and  smote  him."  And  what  do  we 
behold  in  every  such  infliction  but  an  earnest  of 
its  comincr  doom?  the  scintillations  of  that  wrath, 


THE  DOOM  OF    COVETOUSNESS.  159 

the  flashes  of  that  distant  fire  which  is  kindled 
already  to  consume  it  ? 

And  not  only  has  he  punished  it;  he  is  visit- 
iufr  and  denouncing  it  at  the  irrcsent  moment. 
"  Woe  to  him  that  coveteth  an  evil  covetousness 
to  his  house,  that  he  may  set  his  nest  on  liigh, 
that  he  may  be  delivered  from  the  power  of  evil! 
Thou  hast  consulted  shame  to  thy  house  by  cut- 
ting ofi'  many  people,  and  hast  sinned  against 
thy  soul.  For  the  stone  shall  cry  out  of  the  wall, 
and  the  beam  out  of  the  timber  shall  answer  it." 
The  very  house  which  he  has  built  for  his  securi- 
ty shall  reproach  him  for  the  grasping  injustice 
of  the  means  by  which  it  was  reared.  jMysteri- 
ous  voices  from  every  part  of  it  shall  upbraid 
and  threaten  him  for  having  pursued  the  gains 
of  this  world  to  the  neglect  of  his  immortal  soul. 
It  shall  be  haunted  by  the  fearful  sjicctre  of  his 
own  guilty  conscience  ;  it  shall  be  the  prison- 
house  of  justice  till  he  is  called  to  the  bar  of 
God  ;  instead  of  defending  him  from  evil,  it  shall 
seem  to  attract  and  receive  all  dreadful  things  to 
alarm  and  j)nnish  him. 

The  law  of  God  is  still  in  the  act  of  condemning 
covetousness.  'J'he  fires  of  Sinai,  indeed,  have 
ceased  to  burn,  and  its  thunders  have  ceased  to 
utter  their  voices ;  but  that  law,  in  honor  of 
which  these  terrors  appeared,  is  in  force  still  ; 
that  law  which  said,  "  Tiiou  shalt  not  covet," 
is  burnincr  and  thundering  against  covetousness 
still.  It  has  been  republished  under  the  gospel 
with  additional  sanctions  ;  it  is  written  by  the 
finger  of  the  Spirit  on  the  fleshly  tables  of  every 


160  THE  DOOM    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 

renewed  heart ;  it  is  inscribed  by  Ppovidence  on 
every  object  of  hum;ui  desire,  to  warn  us  of 
danger  as  often  as  our  eye  rests  on  them.  And 
if,  heedless  of  that  warning,  we  yet  pursue  those 
objects  to  excess,  and  put  forth  our  hand  to  take 
ihein — if  then  the  terrors  of  another  Sinai  do  not 
kindle  and  flash  forth  upon  us,  it  is  not  that  the 
law  has  lost  its  force,  but  that  it  is  reserving 
itself  for  another  day.  Lost  its  force  ! — It  is  at 
this  moment  making  inquisition  in  every  human 
heart,  and  if  there  be  but  one  feeling  of  inordi- 
nate worldly  desire  there,  it  takes  cognizance  of 
it,  and  denounces  against  it  the  wrath  of  God. 
Lost  its  force  !  It  is  daily  following  the  covet- 
ous through  the  world,  tracking  them  through 
all  the  windings  of  their  devious  course,  chasing 
them  out  of  the  loorld,  pursuing  them  down  to 
their  own  place,  and  kindling  around  them  there 
fires  such  as  Sinai  never  saw. 

"  The  wicked  blesseth  the  covetous  whom  the 
Lord  abhorreth."  Not  only  does  the  law  con- 
demn him,  hut  God  abhors  him;  and  how  hate- 
ful must  that  sin  be,  which,  in  any  sense,  com- 
pels the  God  of  mercy  to  hate  the  creatures 
which  he  himself  has  made,  to  loathe  the  work 
of  his  own  hands  !  Yet  covetousness  does  this. 
And  it  is  important  to  remark  that  the  covetous- 
ness against  which  the  Scriptures  launch  their 
most  terrible  anathemas  is  not  of  the  scandalous 
kind,  but  such  as  may  escape  the  censures  of 
the  church,  and  even  receive  the  commendations 
of  the  world  ;  leaving  us  to  draw  the  inevitable 
conclusion,  that  if  the  milder  forms  of  the  sin  be 


THE  DOOM    OF    COVETOUSNESS.  IGl 

punished,  its  grosser  degrees  have  every  thing  to 
fear.  Here,  for  examjjie,  is  a  covetous  man  of 
ulioni  the  wicked  speak  well — a  proof  that  lie  is 
not  rapacious  or  avaricious,  for  a  person  of  such 
a  stamp  is  commended  by  none — and  yet  God 
abhors  iiim.  And  ulio  can  conceive  the  misery 
of  being  abliorred  by  the  blessed  God  !  How 
large  a  proportion  of  the  suffering  which  the 
world  at  present  contains  might  be  traced  to 
God's  detestation  of  this  sin;  and,  probably, 
since  the  guilt  of  the  sin  goes  on  rapidly  in- 
creasing with  every  passing  year,  the  punish- 
ment of  it  in  this  world  will  go  on  increasing 
also.  How  large  a  proportion  of  the  misery  of 
hell  at  this  moment,  points  to  this  sin  as  its 
origin!  And  how  rapidly,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
does  that  numerous  class  of  the  lost  go  on  aug- 
menting, of  which  the  rich  man  in  the  parable 
forms  the  aj)palling  type  ! 

But  "  behold,  another  woe  cometh  !  "  Anoth- 
er seal  is  yet  to  be  opened,  and  Death  will  be 
seen,  with  Hell  following  him.  It  is  of  one  of 
the  classes  of  the  covetous  especially  that  the 
apostle  Peter  declares,  "  their  judgment  now  of  a 
long  time  lingereth  not,  and  their  damnation 
slumbereth  not." — The  angel  charged  with  their 
destruction  is  on  the  wing,  and  is  hourly  draw- 
ing nearer.  And  the  apostle  James,  addressing 
the  covetous  of  his  day,  exclaimed,  in  reference 
to  the  approaching  destruction  of  the  Jewish 
state,"  "  Come  now,  ye  rich  men,  weep  and 
howl  over  the  miseries  that  are  coming  upon 
you.     Your  riches  are  corrupted,  and  your  gar- 


162 


THE  DOOM    OF    COVETOUSNESS. 


ments  are  moth-eaten.  Your  gold  and  silver 
are  cankered,  and  their  rust  shall  be  a  witness 
against  you,  and  shall  eat  into  your  flesh  as  fire  : 
ye  have  laid  up  treasures  for  the  last  days." 
But  if  temporal  calamities  called  for  such  an  in- 
tense agony  of  grief,  such  a  convocation  of 
tears,  and  groans,  and  lamentations,  where  is 
the  form  of  sorrow  equal  to  the  doom  which 
awaits  the  covetous  in  the  last  day  ? — where  are 
the  tears  fit  to  be  shed  in  that  hour  when  the 
tarnish  of  that  gold  and  silver  which  ought  to 
have  been  kept  bright  by  a  generous  circulation, 
shall  testify  against  them,  and,  like  caustic, 
shall  corrode  and  burn  them  ! — and  when,  how- 
ever much  they  may  have  suffered  for  their  cov- 
etousness  on  earth,  they  shall  find  that  they  were 
only  receiving  the  interest  of  the  vvrath'they  had 
laid  up,  that  the  principal  has  gone  on  daily  ac- 
cumulating ;  that  they  have  been  treasuring  up 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  till  the  dreadful 
store  has  overflowed. 

The  covetous  will  then  find  themselves  placed 
'*  on  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge."  And  lie  will 
say  unto  them,  *'  I  was  hungry,  and  ye  gave  me 
no  meat :  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no 
drink  '-  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in : 
naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  not :  sick,  and  in 
prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not."  Then  practical 
benevolence,  as  the  result  of  evangelical  piety, 
is  the  hinge  on  which  our  final  destiny  will  turn  ! 
This  language  contains  a  rule  of  judgment, 
which,  in  the  hands  of  Christ,  is  capable  of  re- 
ceiving universal  application.     It  obviously  ira- 


THE    DOOM    OF     COVETOUSNICSS.  1G3 

plies  tliat  he  has  a  cause  in  the  world — the 
cause  of  human  salvation  ;  and  that  all  wlio  do 
not  practically  attach  themselves  to  it,  deny 
themselves  oil  account  of  it,  love  tliose  who  be- 
long to  it,  and  supremely  value  him  who  is  the 
Divine  Author  of  it,  will  be  finally  disowned  and 
condemned. 

And  here  again  it  is  important  to  remark,  that 
the  covetousness  which  is  threatened  to  be  placed 
at  the  left  i)and  of  the  Judge,  is  not  of  the 
scandalous  kind.  Had  not  the  Judge  himself 
described  it,  we  might  have  supposed  that  this 
fearful  position  would  be  occupied  only  by  the 
outlaws  of  humanity,  monsters  of  rapacity,  ava- 
rice and  injustice.  But  no.  The  fig-tree  was 
withered,  not  for  bearing  bad  fruit,  but  for  yield- 
ing no  fruit.  The  foolish  virgins  were  excluded 
from  the  marriage-feast,  not  for  casting  away 
their  lamps,  but  for  not  using  them.  The  un- 
profitable servant  was  cast  into  outer  darkness, 
not  for  wasting  the  talent  committed  to  him,  but 
for  not  employing  it.  The  wordling  whom  our 
lord,  denominates a/oo/  is  not  charged  with  any 
positive  sins :  for  aught  that  appears,  he  had 
been  honest  and  industrious  ;  his  diligence  had 
been  crowned  with  success,  and  he  proposed  to 
enjoy  that  success,  in  retirement  and  ease  ; — and 
what  is  this  but  an  every-day  history  1  or,  where 
is  the  man  that  does  not  commend  him,  and  take 
him  for  a  model  ?  But  he  had  "laid  up  treas- 
ures" only  "  for  himself,  and  was  not  rich  to- 
wards God;"  and  therefore  is  he  summoned 
suddenly  to  appear  as  a  guilty  criminal  at  the 
15 


164 


THE    DOOM    OF  COVETOUSNESS. 


bar  of  God.  And  they  who  do  not  now  learn 
the  moral  of  his  history — "  to  take  heed  and  be- 
ware of  covetousness  " — are  here  represented  as 
finally  sharing  his  doom.  They  may  have  been 
as  free  as  the  reader  from  all  the  grosser  vices. 
They  may  have  had  many  negative  virtues,  like 
him,  and  have  often  boasted  that  they  did  no 
harm.  But  the  ground  of  their  condemnation 
will  be,  that  they  did  no  good.  They  may  have 
occasionally  exercised  that  empty  benevolence 
which  costs  neither  effort  nor  sacrifice.  But 
they  practised  no  self-denial,  made  no  retrench- 
ments, took  no  pains,  in  the  cause  of  mercy. 
They  never  once  thought  of  adopting  and  es- 
pousing that  cause  as  an  object  in  which  they 
were  interested  ;  and  which  looked  to  them  for 
support.  Had  it  been  left  entirely  to  them,  it 
would  have  been  famished  with  hunger,  have 
pined  in  sickness,  have  been  immured  in  a  pri- 
son, and  have  perished  from  the  world.  Most 
justly,  therefore,  will  they  find  themselves  placed 
on  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge. 

In  that  fearful  situation  the  covetous  man  tcill 
be  an  object  of  wonder  and  aversion  to  all  the 
righteous.  "  The  righteous  shall  see,  and  shall 
laugh  at  him  :  Lo,  this  is  the  man  that  made 
not  God  his  strength,  but  trusted  in  the  abun- 
dance of  his  riches."  In  a  popular  sense,  he 
may  have  been  moral,  and  even  generous ;  but 
he  had  "  made  gold  his  hope,  and  had  said  to  the 
fine  gold,  Thou  art  my  confidence."  His  wealth 
had  been  his  strong  tower,  but  that  tower  shall 
attract  the  bolt  of  Heaven.     His  very  armor  shall 


THE    D003I    OF     COVETOUSNESS.  165 

draw  the  lightning  down.  The  exposure  of  his 
trust  shall  excite  the  scorn  and  derision  of  tlie 
universe.  **  Men  shall  clap  their  hands  at  him, 
and  shall  hiss  him  out  out  of  his  place."  That  he 
should  have  thought  to  extract  happiness  from  a 
clod  of  earth  ;  that  he  should  have  reckoned  a 
little  gold  an  equivalent  for  God ;  that  a  rational 
and  immortal  being  should  have  been  guilty  of 
such  an  enormity,  will  suspend  all  pity  in  the 
minds  of  the  righteous.  The  unhappy  being 
will  behold  every  finger  pointed  at  him  in  scorn  ; 
will  hear  himself  mocked  at  as  a  prodigy  of 
folly ;  will  be  scoffed  and  chased  beyond  the 
limits  of  God's  happy  dominions. 

**  He  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God." 
In  the  classifications  of  this  world,  the  Christian 
mammonist  may  stand  among  the  holy  and  ex- 
cellent of  the  earth  ;  but,  in  the  final  arrange- 
ments of  the  judgment-day,  he  will  have  a  new 
place  assigned  him.  As  soon  as  his  character 
becomes  known,  the  righteous  will  no  longer  be 
burdened  and  disgraced  with  his  presence  ;  they 
will  cast  him  forth  as  an  alien  from  their  commu- 
nity ;  "  he  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God." 
And  the  very  same  act  which  removes  him  from 
their  community  shall  transfer  him  "  to  his  own 
place" — to  the  congenial  society  of  the  drunk- 
ard, the  unbeliever,  the  idolater,  and  of  all  who, 
like  himself,  made  not  God  their  trust.  "  Know 
ye  not,"  saith  the  apostle,  that  this  is  the  divine 
determination  ?  It  is  no  new  arrangement,  no 
recent  enactment  of  the  Supreme  Lawgiver, 
arising  from  a  view  of  the  exigency  of  the  case  ; 


166  THE    DOOM    OF     COVETOUSNESS. 

it  is  the  operation  of  a  hiown  law,  eternal  and 
immutable  as  its  own  nature  ; — "He  shall  not 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  The  lax  opin- 
ions of  the  church  on  the  sin  of  covetousness 
may  delude  him  with  the  hope  that  he  shall,  that 
cupidity  alone  shall  not  exclude  him  from  the 
divine  presence;  but  "let  no  man  deceive  you 
with  vain  words,"  saith  the  apostle;  the  decree 
has  gone  forth  against  every  covetous  man, 
whatever  his  standing  may  be  in  the  Christian 
church, — "  He  shall  not  have  any  inheritance 
in  the  kingdom  of  Christ  and  God."  The  splen- 
dors of  a  worldly  kingdom  he  may  inherit  ; 
streams  of  worldly  affluence  may  seem  to  seek 
him,  and,  like  a  sea,  he  may  receive  them  all ; 
but  he  gives  not  God  the  glory,  he  makes  himself 
no  heavenly  friends  with  the  mammon  of  unright- 
eousness, he  thinks  not  of  transferring  his  treas- 
ures by  deeds  of  beneficence  to  the  hands  of  God  ; 
and,  consequently,  when  he  passes  out  of  time 
into  eternity,  though  he  should  be  sought  for  be- 
fore the  throne  of  God,  above,  sought  for  diligent- 
ly among  all  the  ranks  of  the  blessed,  he  would 
no  where  be  found,  for  "  he  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God." 

The  final  destination  of  the  covetous  is  hell. 
Having  convicted  them  of  their  guilt,  the  Judge 
will  say  to  them,  in  common  with  all  the  other 
classes  of  the  ungodly,  **  Depart  from  me,  ye 
cursed,  into  everlasting  fire  ;  prepared  for  the 
devil  and  his  angels."  And  then  will  they  be- 
hold their  covetousness  in  its  true  light.  They 
will  see  that   it   involved   an   attempt  to   erect 


THE    DOOM     OF    COVETOUSNESS.  167 

another  centre  tlmn  God,  in  which  they  might 
find  happiness  and  repose  ;  and,  therefore,  when 
he  shall  place  himself  as  in  the  centre  of  his 
people,  and  say  to  them,  *'  Come,"  the  covetous 
will  feel  the  rectitude  of  the  sentence  which 
shall  command  them  to  "depart."  They  will 
then  discover  that,  in  withholding  their  property 
from  benevolent  objects,  they  were  withholding  it, 
in  effect  from  him  ;  and  therefore,  they  shall 
acknowledge  the  justice  of  his  withholding  him- 
self from  them.  They  belong  to  a  schism,  com- 
pared with  which  every  other  is  unworthy  of 
the  name — the  great  schism  of  the  selfish. 
Though  professing  to  belong  to  that  vast  spiritual 
community  in  heaven  and  earth,  of  which  Christ 
is  the  supreme  Head,  they  will  then  discover 
that,  in  reality,  they  have  attached  themselves  to 
the  great  party  of  the  world,  adopting  its  sym- 
bols, governing  themselves  by  its  maxims,  and 
pursuing  its  ends  ;  and,  therefore,  with  it  they 
must  "  depart."  And  then  first  will  they  esti- 
mate truly  the  dreadful  nature  of  their  doom. 
For  when  he  shall  say,  "  Depart,"  every  thing 
else — every  being,  every  place  in  the  universe, 
but  hell — shall  repeat,  "  Depart ;  "  casting  them 
forth,  disowning  them,  and  refusing  them  sym- 
pathy and  refuge.  "  The  heaven  shall  reveal 
their  iniquity,  and  the  earth  shall  rise  up  against 
them."  "  They  shall  go  away  into  everlasting 
punishment." 

15* 


SECTION   IX. 


EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS    FOR    ITS   WANT    OF    LIBERALITY"* 

In  his  solemn  description  of  the  general  judg- 
ment, our  Lord  represents  the  ungodly  as  startled 
at  the  true  picture  of  their  own  selfishness. 
Never  having  reflected  on  their  conduct  in  its 
religious  bearing  and  ultimate  effects,  they  can- 
not allow  that  the  charge  alleged  by  the  Judge 
can  have  any  application  to  them.  They  hasten, 
therefore,  to  put  in  their  pleas  in  arrest  of  judg- 
ment, to  stay  their  doom.  In  like  manner,  on 
surveying  the  magnitude  of  the  evils  arising  to 
religion  from  a  covetous  spirit,  the  first  impres- 
sion of  a  person  implicated,  may  probably  be  of 
the  nature  of  a  remonstrance  which  may  be  in- 
terpreted thus  : — If  I  am  chargeable  with  cu- 
pidity, the  degree  in  which  I  indulge  the  passion 
can  surely  bear  no  relation  whatever  to  evils  so 
enormous,  and  consequences  so  dreadful.  / 
have  often  given  to  the  claims  of  benevolence  ; 
I  am  in  the  habit  of  contributing  as  others  do; 
I  consider  that  I  am  benefiting  the  community 


EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS  169 

as  much,  if  not  more,  by  spending  than  by  giv- 
ing ;  I  give  as  muck  as  I  conveniently  can  ;  had 
I  more  to  bestow,  I  would  certainly  give  it ;  and 
I  intend  to  remember  the  cause  of  God  in  the  final 
arrangements  of  my  property  ;  so  that  whoever 
may  merit  these  strictures  on  covetousness,  they 
can  only  apply  to  me,  if  at  all,  in  the  most  miti- 
gated sense. 

The  plausible  air  which  this  remonstrance 
wears  requires  that  it  should  receive  examina- 
tion. You  have  given,  you  say,  to  the  cause  of 
Christian  philanthropy.  But  it  may  be  inquired, 
when  have  you  given?  Has  it  been  o?dy  when 
your  sensibility  has  been  taken  by  surprise  ?  or 
when  a  powerful  appeal  has  urged  you  to  the 
duty?  or,  when  the  example,  or  the  presence  of 
others,  has  left  you  no  alternative  ?  or,  when  the 
prospect  of  being  published  as  a  donor  tempted 
your  ostentation  ?  or,  when  importunity  annoyed 
you  ?  or,  when  under  the  passing  influence  of  a 
fit  of  generosity  1  We  would  not  too  curiously 
analyze  the  composition  of  any  apparent  virtue  ; 
nor  would  we  have  you  to  suspend  the  practice 
of  charity  till  you  can  be  perfectly  certain  that 
your  motives  are  unmixed.  But  we  would 
aflfectionately  remind  you  that  if  you  have  given 
to  God  at  such  times  only,  it  proves  to  be  a  demon- 
stration that  you  are  covetous  at  all  other  times. 
Your  covetousness  is  a  habit,  your  benevolence 
only  an  act ;  or,  rather,  it  is  only  the  momentary 
suspension  of  your  prevailing  habit;  and,  as  the 
circumstance  that  a  man  enjoys  lucid  intervals 
does  not  exempt  him  from  being  classed  among 


170  EXCUSES   OP    COVETOUSNESS 

the  insane,  so  your  accidental  and  occasional 
charities  still  leave  you  in  the  ranks  of  the  cov- 
etous. 

But  as  you  plead  that  you  have  given,  it  may 
be  inquired  further — what  have  you  given  ?  The 
mere  circumstance  of  a  Christian  professor  de- 
voting a  part  of  his  property  to  God  does  not 
denominate  him  benevolent ;  otherwise  Ananias 
must  be  honored  with  the  epithet;  and  yet  it 
was  his  covetousness  which  involved  him  in  false- 
hood, and  his  falsehood  drew  down  destruction. 
'*  There  is  that  withholdeth  more  than  is  meet :  " 
if  men  were  to  be  denominated  by  that  which 
characterizes  them  in  the  sight  of  God,  how 
many  an  individual  who  is  now  called  benevolent 
on  account  of  what  he  gives,  would  be  stigma- 
tized as  covetous  on  account  of  what  he  with- 
holds. Which  can  more  properly  be  said  of  you, 
that  you  have  given,  or  that  you  have  withheld  ? 
Would  you  not  feel  degraded  and  displeased  to 
hear  others  reporting  of  you  that,  slender  as  your 
contribution  is,  it  is  all  you  can  give  ?  Numbers 
profess  to  give  their  mite ;  by  which,  though  they 
may  not  confess  it  to  themselves,  they  feel  as  if 
they  had  in  some  way  approached  the  example 
of  the  widow,  if  not  actually  entitled  themselves 
to  a  share  of  her  praise.  While,  in  fact,  there  is 
this  immense  distinction,  that  whereas  she  cast 
into  the  treasury  only  two  mites  because  it  was 
her  all,  they  cast  in  only  a  mite  in  order  that 
thay  may  keep  their  all.  They  pay  this  insignif- 
icant fraction  in  tribute  to  a  clamorous  con- 
science, in  order  that  they  may  buy  off  the  great 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  171 

bulk  of  their  wealth,  find  quietly  consume  it  on 
their  selfishnes.s  Her  greatness  of  soul,  her 
magnanimous  benevolence,  held  the  Savior  of 
the  world  in  admiration,  and  drew  from  him 
words  of  complacency  and  delig'ht.  Their  pre- 
tended imitation  of  her  conduct  is  an  insult  to 
her  munificence,  and  to  the  praise  which  the  be- 
nevolent Jesus  bestowed  on  it.  And  yet  to  which 
of  these  two  classes  of  donors  do  you  approach 
the  nearest  1  Benevolence,  you  are  aware,  is 
comparative  :  there  are  some  who  have  given 
their  all  to  God,  and  there  are  those  who  may 
almost  be  said  to  keep  their  all  to  themselves, — to 
which  of  these  two  descriptions  do  you  bear  the 
greater  resemblance?  The  tree  is  known  by 
its  fruits:  now,  it  might  not  be  an  unprofitable 
exercise  for  you  to  examine  whether  you  are 
prepared  to  rest  your  claims  to  the  Christian 
character  on  the  yjro/;or^/o?i  in  which  you  have 
borne  the  fruits  of  the  Christian  benevolence. 

A  second  plea  is,  that  you  believe  you  are  in 
the  habit  of  contributing  to  the  cause  of  mercy 
as  others  do.  But  have  you — a  Christian  friend 
might  incjuire — have  you  ever  reflected  whether 
or  not  others  have  adopted  the  right  standard  of 
benevolence  1  The  amount  of  property  devoted 
by  the  Christian  public  to  God  is  annually  in- 
creasing: does  not  that  imply  that  Christians,  at 
present,  are  oidy  approaching  the  proper  stand- 
ard of  liberality,  rather  than  that  they  have  al- 
ready reached  it?  And  would  it  not  be  noble, 
would  it  not  be  godlike  in  you,  were  you  to  reach 
the  standard  before  them  ;  were  you  to  take  your 


172  EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 

rule  immediately  from  the  cross  itself,  rather 
than  from  the  example  of  those  who,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  are  standing  from  it  afar  off? 

Christians,  in  the  present  day,  seem  to  have 
entered  into  a  kind  of  tacit  compact,  that  to  give 
certain  sums  to  certain  objects  shall  be  deemed 
benevolent :  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that, 
though  most  of  them  are  contributing  less  than 
"  of  the  ability  which  God  giveth,"  they  yet  never 
suspect  their  claim  to  be  deemed  liberal.  And 
another  consequence  is,  that  when  a  Christian 
distinguishes  himself,  and  stands  out  from  the 
ranks  of  the  church,  by  a  noble  deed  of  liberality, 
though  constrained  to  admire  him,  they  do  not 
consider  themselves  called  on  to  imitate  ;  for  they 
feel  as  if  he  had  exceeded  the  i^ules,  passed  the 
prescribed  limits  of  benevolence. 

We  have  supposed  that  \ou  not  only  plead  the 
example  of  others,  but  that  you  are  also  ready  to 
add,  "I  contribute  as  ?nuch  as  I  conveniently 
can^  Here,  however,  two  questions  instantly 
arise  ;  first,  whether  you  mean  that  you  devote 
to  God  as  much  of  your  property  as  is  conveni- 
ent to  your  luxury,  or  convenient  to  your  bare 
personal  comfort?  And,  secondly,  vviiether  what 
is  generally  understood  by  personal  convenience, 
is  precisely  the  kind  of  arbitrator  to  which  a 
Christian  can  safely  refer  the  amount  of  his  char- 
ity ? 

When  you  say  that  you  contribute  as  much 
as  you  conveniently  can,  we  presume  your  mean- 
ing to  be  that  you  devote  to  bencvuleni  uses  all 
that  your  present  rate  of  expenditure  happens  to 


TOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  173 

leave  unappropriated  to  other  objects.  But  liere 
again  two  questions  arise  :  if  your  expenditure 
is  calculated  and  reduced  to  a  plan,  ought  not 
the  question  lioiv  much  shall  1  devote  to  God  ? 
to  have  made  an  original  part  of  the  plan  1  But 
since  you  confess  that  grave  omission,  ought  you 
not  now  to  think  of  retrenching  your  expenses, 
and  reducing  your  plan,  that  your  charity  may 
not  be  left  to  the  mercy  of  an  expensive  and 
selfish  convenience  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  all 
the  great  works  of  the  Christian  church  have 
been  performed  by  sacrificing  your  favorite  prin- 
ciple, convenience?  that  a  Croesus  himself  might 
find  it  convenient  to  give  but  little  in  charity  1 
and  an  Apicius  to  give  nothing  ?  and  that,  if  the 
men  who,  in  all  ages,  have  been  most  distin- 
guished for  extending  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
had  listened  to  the  dictates  of  convenience^  they 
would  have  lived  and  died  in  inglorious  and 
guilty  indolence  1  And  need  you  be  re- 
minded, how  easily  God  could  convince  you,  by 
simply  reducing  your  present  income,  that  you 
might  have  made  it  convenient  to  contribute  to 
his  cause  more  than  you  now  do,  by  the  exact 
amount  of  that  reduction  ?  And  do  you  not  see, 
that  your  unfaithfulness  to  your  present  trust 
may  operate  with  God  to  forbid  your  further  pros- 
perity ?  for,  is  it  not  a  law  of  his  kingdom,  that 
the  misimproved  talent  shall  be  icithdrawn  from 
the  possessor,  rather  than  increased  7  Besides 
which,  you  are  closing  your  eyes  to  eternal  con- 
sequences; for  **  he  that  soweth  sparingly  shall 
reap  sparingly."     The  husbandman  who  should 


174  EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 

grieve  that  he  had  land  to  sow,  and  begrudge 
the  seed  which  he  sowed  in  it  as  lost,  would  be 
wise  and  innocent,  compared  with  the  man  who, 
while  professing  to  believe  that  his  charity  is 
seed  sown  for  an  eternal  harvest,  should  yet 
stint  and  limit  his  gifts  to  the  precarious  leavings 
of  an  improvident  convenience. 

Or,  you  may  be  ready  to  plead,  "  I  consider 
myself  not  only  justified  in  my  present  style  of 
living,  but  as  benefiting  the  community  by 
spending  a  portion  of  my  property  in  luxuries, 
more  than  by  giving  that  portion  of  it  away  in 
alms;  besides,  by  so  expending  it,  I  am  employ- 
ing and  supporting  the  very  classes  who  sub- 
scribe to  and  principally  sustain  the  cause  of 
Christian  charity." 

To  such  a  statement  we  can  only  reply,  gen- 
erally, that  your  scale  of  expenditure  must  de- 
pend, partly,  on  the  rank  you  hold  in  society; 
that  to  arbitrate  correctly  between  the  claims  of 
self  and  the  cause  of  mercy,  is  the  great  problem 
of  Christian  benevolence  ;  and  that,  if  you  have 
solved  this  problem  scripturally  and  conscientious- 
ly before  God,  it  is  not  for  man  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  your  conduct. 

But  if  you  have  not — if  the  question  still  re- 
main open  for  consideration,  your  attention  is 
earnestly  solicited  to  three  classes  of  remarks — 
economical,  logical,  and  religious. 

When  you  speak  of  benefiting  the  community 
by  spending,  more  than  by  giving,  you  are,  in 
effect,  raising  a  question  in  political  economy. 
Now,  to  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  the  Christian 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  175 

liberality  to  which  you  are  urged  is  not  that  in- 
discriminate alins-g^iving  which  would  encourage 
idleness  and  iiiij)rovidence.  The  introduction  of 
such  an  idea  is  quite  beside  the  question  in  hand. 
The  charity  which  you  are  called  on  to  exercise 
is  such  as  would  leave  the  whole  apparatus  of 
useful  production  untouched ;  or  which  would 
touch  it  only  to  render  it  more  effective  and  ben- 
eficial— a  charity  which  should  at  once  discour- 
age vice  ;  assist  the  helpless,  destitute,  and  dis- 
eased ;  reclaim  and  reform  the  vicious;  civilize 
barbarism  ;  call  into  activity  the  physical,  men- 
tal, and  moral  resources  of  savage  lands;  excite 
and  reward  industry  ;  instruct  the  ignorant  ; 
circulate  the  word  of  God  ;  send  the  agents  of 
the  Christian  church  in  all  directions;  and  which 
should  thus  furnish  employment  for  multitudes, 
give  a  direction  to  the  energies  of  men  which 
should  bear  fruit  for  both  worlds,  modify  and 
raise  the  tone  of  political  economy  itself,  and  thus 
be  the  means  of  lifting  earth  nearer  heaven. 

And  then,  as  to  the  value  of  labor  and  wealth, 
you  have  to  consider  that  the  labor  which  is 
beneficial  to  the  individual,  may  be  quite  unprof- 
itable to  the  country,  and,  in  the  end,  injurious, 
and  even  ruinous;  otherwise,  war,  or  the  multi- 
plication of  gaming-houses,  and  gin-palaces,  by 
giving  employment  to  numbers,  must  be  hailed 
as  a  blessing  ;  instead  of  which,  it  might  easily 
be  shown  that,  in  a  variety  of  ways,  they  operate 
economically  as  a  curse.  You  have  to  consider 
also,  that  it  is  not  the  mere  increase  of  a  nation's 
wealth  which  enhances  its  permanent  prosperity; 
16 


176 


EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 


Otherwise,  the  colonial  mines  of  Spain  would  be 
still  her  boast  and  glory,  instead  of  accounting, 
as  they  unquestionably  do,  for  her  national  pov- 
erty. And  the  question  is,  whether  much  of 
your  outlay,  though  it  may  encourage  labor,  and 
increase  the  present  wealth  of  the  nation,  has 
not,  when  viewed  as  a  part  of  a  great  and  slowly 
developed  system,  a  tendency  to  generate  many 
of  the  evils  which  the  Economical  science  de- 
plores, of  shortening  tiie  intervals  between  what 
are  called  the  periodical  crashes,  and  of  proving 
in  the  end  a  national  bane,  and  not  a  blessing. 

We  might,  indeed,  by  taking  advantage  of  a 
distinction  which  obtains  in  political  economy 
between  productive  and  unproductit^e  consump- 
tion, undertake  to  show,  that  by  expending  your 
revenue  on  the  superfluities  of  life  you  are  con- 
suming it  unproductively,  that  is,  in  a  way  which 
does  not  add  to  the  annual  quantity  or  value  of 
the  national  produce  ;  and  that  you  are  thus  com- 
paratively sinking  and  absorbing  in  self-indul- 
gence that  which  might  have  augmented  the  na- 
tional wealth,  and  have  made  you  a  greater  na- 
tional blessing.  So  that,  though  we  do  not  say 
that  the  science  blames  you,  yet  the  praise 
which  it  accords  to  you  is  but  secondary  and 
qualified. 

But  not  only  is  not  an  unnecessary  expenditure 
productive  of  the  good  you  imagine,  it  is  attend- 
ed with  positive  evils.  For,  in  order  to  support 
it,  a  proprietor  of  land,  for  instance,  must  raise 
his  rents;  in  order  to  pay  these,  the  farmer  must 
raise  the  price  of  his  produce  ;  in  order  to  pur- 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  177 

chase  that,  tlie  laborer  must  receive  increased 
wages  ;  and  tlie  consequence  is,  that  that  large 
number  of  the  human  family  whose  means  of 
subsistence  are  precarious,  experience  an  increas- 
ed dilliculty  in  obtaining  even  this  scanty  supply. 
Besides  which,  a  useless  consumption,  by  keeping 
up  a  high  scale  of  expenditure,  and  engrossing 
the  time  of  the  producer,  ])revents  leisure,  and 
thus  retards  mental  cultivation,  and  real  improve- 
ment. 

Again  ;  employing  the  term  logical  in  the 
humblest  sense,  and  for  the  sake  of  distinction, 
it  may  be  inquired — if  there  be  really  so  much 
benefit  as  you  suppose  accruing  to  the  commu- 
nity from  what  you  spend  on  superfluities,  would 
you  not  1)0  justified  in  spending  more  upon  them  1 
Ought  it  not  to  become  a  serious  question  with 
you,  whether  or  not  you  are  spending  enough 
upon  them  ?  whether  it  be  not  your  duty  to  spend 
all  you  can  upon  them?  to  withdraw  even  that 
small  modicum  which  you  now  dispense  in  char- 
ity, and  to  devote  that  also  to  "  the  pride  of  life  1 " 
But  from  such  a  conclusion  you  recoil  with  dis- 
may ;  though  it  seems  only  the  legitimate  appli- 
cation of  your  own  principle.  You  add,  also, 
that  the  money  which  you  expend  in  luxury  act- 
ually employs  the  very  classes  who  subscribe  to, 
and  principally  suj)port,  the  cause  of  Christian 
charity.  As  far  as  you  are  concerned,  remem- 
ber, this  is  purely  accidental.  Whatever  credit 
may  be  due  to  them  for  thus  consecrating  the 
fruit  of  their  labor  to  (iod,  not  a  particle  of  that 
credit  can  properly  accrue  to  you.      Besides,   if 


178  EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 

they  do  right  in  thus  taking  their  property  to 
God,  are  you  not  doing  wrong  in  taking  your 
property  from  him  ?  and  will  not  their  conduct 
be  cited  against  you  in  condemnation?  To  be 
consistent  with  yourself,  you  must  actually  con- 
demn them  for  appropriating  so  much  of  their 
property  to  God.  On  your  principle,  they  are 
essentially  wrong  for  not  indulging  more  in  su- 
perfluities. For,  if  your  self-indulgence,  in  this 
respect,  works  so  beneficially  for  the  general 
good,  would  not  their  self-indulgence  work  equal- 
ly well  ?  From  this  conclusion,  also,  you  prob- 
ably recoil,  though  it  seems  only  the  legitimate 
application  of  your  own  principle. 

But,  as  a  professed  follower  of  Christ,  you  will 
surely  prefer  to  decide  the  question  on  religious 
grounds — aware,  as  you  are,  that  whatever  is 
morally  wrong  cannot  be  politically  right.  Now, 
you  profess  freely  to  admit  that  the  claims  of 
Christian  charity  should  be  supported ;  the  only 
question  with  you  is,  whether  you  are  or  not  do- 
ing more  good  by  spending  what  you  do  in  lux- 
ury, than  by  dispensing  it  all  in  charity.  But 
let  me  ask  you,  as  under  the  eye  of  Omniscience 
— is  your  ruling  motive  in  this  lavish  expendi- 
ture a  sincere  desire  to  benefit  the  community  1 
or,  are  you  not  actuated  rather  by  a  love  of  self- 
gratification  1  Because,  if  so,  it  would  be  well 
for  you  to  remember,  that,  though  God  may 
overrule  your  evil  for  good — though  your  profu- 
sion, as  a  matter  of  political  economy,  should 
be  proved  to  work  well,  and  to  be  worthy  of 
praise,  yet,  as  a  question  of  morality,  bearing  on 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OP    LIBERALITY. 


179 


your  eternal  state,  it  may  endanger  your  safety, 
and  aggravate  your  condemnation.  If  it  be  true, 
tliat  your  eternal  welfare  depends  on  the  ascen- 
dancy which  the  spiritual  may  now  gain  over 
the  sensible — and  that  every  additional  worldly 
indulgence  is  so  much  advantage  given  to  the 
flesh  over  the  spirit,  are  you  not,  by  your  profu- 
sion, endangering  your  own  everlasting  peace 
for  the  sake  of  uncertainly  promoting  the  tem- 
poral welfare  of  others  ?  and  is  not  this  a  most 
romantic  mode  of  self-immolation  1  a  loving  of 
your  neighbor,  not  merely  as  yourself,  but  en- 
thusiastically more,  and  infinitely  better,  than 
yourself?  In  addition  to  which,  your  profusion 
deprives  you  of  the  power  of  performing  any 
great  acts  of  liberality.  It  invites  the  classes 
below  you  to  aspire  to  an  imitation  of  your  style 
of  living.  It  provokes  that  fierce  and  ruinous 
competition  of  fashion  so  generally  complained 
of,  and  which  you  yourself,  perhaps,  loudly  dep- 
recate ;  and  it  gives  the  enemies  of  religion  oc- 
casion to  triumph,  and  to  say,  in  the  language 
of  one  of  our  leading  Reviews,  ''The  godly  tes- 
tify no  reluctance  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  the 
worldly,  in  the  way  to  wealth.  They  quietly 
and  fearlessly  repose  amidst  the  many  luxuries 
it  enables  them  to  procure.  We  see  their  houses 
furnished  in  every  way  to  gratify  the  lust  of  the 
tlesh,  the  desire  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of 
life;  and  their  tables  covered  with  (he  same 
luxurious  viands  that  are  in  ordinary  use  with 
the  men  of  the  world.  This  self-indulgence, 
and  worldly  conformity,  and  vain  glory,  although 
16* 


180  EXCUSES   OF    COVETOUSNESS 

at  variance  with  the  spirit  and  principles  of  the 
gospel,  seem  to  find  just  as  much  favor  in  their 
eyes  as  with  other  people." 

"  But  had  I  more  wealth  to  bestow,  I  would 
cheerfully  give  it."  "  Be  not  deceived."  Cer- 
tain as  you  suppose  that  fact  to  be,  your  conduct 
at  present  proves  that  it  is  the  greatest  of .  all 
uncertainties ;  or  rather,  the  certainty  is  all  on 
the  side  of  your  continued  covetousness.  Rich- 
es were  never  yet  known  to  cure  a  selfish  ex- 
travagance, or  to  remedy  the  love  of  riches. 
As  well  might  a  vintage  be  expected  to  allay 
the  thirst  of  a  fever  produced  by  wine.  '*  He 
that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  sil- 
ver :   nor   he   that   loveth    abundance   with   in- 


Nec  Crad  foriuna  U7iquam,  nee  Persiea  Regna 
Suffieient  animo 

The  cure  you  need  consists,  not  in  the  increase 
of  your  wealth,  but  in  the  reduction  of  your 
desires,  and  the  conscientious  management  of 
your  present  incomCj  as  a  faithful  servant  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Till  this  be  effected,  the  aug- 
mentation of  your  property  a  thousand-fold 
would  not  increase  your  benevolence,  and  when 
it  is  effected,  the  reduction  of  your  property 
to  two  mites  would  not  be  able  to  rob  you  of 
the  pure  satisfaction  of  casting  them  into  his 
treasury. 

Agur  declined  the  abundance  to  which  you 
aspire,  as  a  perilous  condition  ;  and  the  individ- 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  181 

ual  who  professes  to  desire  opulence  only  for  the 
sake  of  havin*^  more  to  bestow,  and  who  makes 
tiiat  desire  an  excuse  for  giving  nothing  at 
present,  gives  ground  to  fear  that  his  desire  is 
only  a  pretext  for  indulging  covetousness  under 
the  mask  of  religion.  But  you  are  not  to  wait 
till  you  have  reached  what  you  deem  the  best 
possible  state  for  the  exercise  of  benevolencft. 
The  charity  required  at  your  hands  at  present, 
is  only  such  as  your  limited  resources  will  al- 
low ;  three  mites  are  not  expected  from  him 
who  has  only  two.  And  the  more  nearly  your 
circumstances  approach  to  a  state  of  poverty, 
the  greater  the  opportunity  you  possess  for 
evincing  the  noble  generosity  and  force  of  the 
Christian  principle.  It  was  not  the  splendid 
donations  of  the  rich  which  drew  forth  the 
praises  of  the  Son  of  God,  but  the  more  than 
royal  munificence  of  that  indigent  widow  who 
gave  "  all  that  she  had,  even  all  her  living." 
The  darker  the  midnight  sky,  the  more  bright 
and  glorious  do  the  stars  appear,  and  the  more 
loudly  do  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God. 
And  when  the  Apostle  would  excite  our  admira- 
tion by  the  wonders  of  the  Christian  church,  he 
tells  us  of  "  the  churches  of  Macedonia,  how 
that  in  a  great  trial  of  affliction,  the  abundance 
of  their  joy,  and  their  deep  poverty,  abounded 
unto  the  riches  of  their  liberality." 

Or,  perhaps  you  belong  to  those  who  triumph 
in  their  own  mind  over  every  charge  of  cupidity, 
by  remembering  that  they  have  made  arrange- 
ments to  be  charitable  at  death.     A  life  of  be- 


182  EXCUSES  OF    COVETOUSNESS 

nevolence  ending  in  a  munificent  bequest,  is 
like  a  glorious  sunset  to  a  summer's  day  :  but 
no  posthumous  charity  can  justify  a  life  of  ava- 
rice, or  redeem  it  from  infamy.  To  defer  relig- 
ion till  your  last  hour,  is  guilt  of  the  deepest 
dye  :  can  it  be  innocent,  then,  to  defer  the 
practice  of  one  o  fits  most  important  relative  du- 
ties till  the  same  crisis  arrives  ?  Were  you  to 
direct  that  a  splendid  asylum  should  arise  over 
your  dust,  it  would  still  be  the  monument  of  a 
covetous  man  ;  and  on  its  front  might  be  written, 
as  an  appropriate  inscription,  "  The  triumph  of 
death  over  avarice."  For  he  who  withholds 
his  hand  from  deeds  of  benevolence  till  his  last 
hour,  surrenders  his  property  to  death,  rather 
than  devotes  it  to  God. 

Besides,  you  are  acting  in  direct  opposition 
to  the  settled  arrangements  of  Providence,  and 
to  the  most  distinct  intimations  of  the  divine 
will.  Your  charity,  as  it  is  to  be  future,  is 
made  to  depend  on  the  most  contingent  circum- 
stances. "  I  had  got,  in  all  my  life,"  saith 
Baxter,  "the  just  sum  of  a  thousand  pounds. 
Having  no  child,  I  devoted  it  to  charity.  Be- 
fore my  purpose  was  accomplished,  the  King 
caused  his  exchequer  to  be  shut,  and  it  was 
lost;  which  I  mention,  to  counsel  any  man  that 
would  do  good,  to  do  it  speedily,  and  with  all 
his  might."  But  by  makiug  your  charily  to  con- 
sist only  in  testamentary  beqiier^ts,  yf>'»  in*e  cal- 
culating on  the  certainty  and  stability  of  that, 
which  has  become  the  very  emblem  of  change 
and  uncertainty. 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  183 

What  you  are  proposing  to  defer  till  the  peri- 
od of  your  natural  death,  tiie  Christian,  if  he 
acts  in  harmony  with  his  profession,  feels  him- 
self bound  to  do  when  he  dies  unto  sin  ;  then  he 
devotes  himself  and  his  property  to  God  ;  and 
with  this  immense  advantage  over  you,  that  he 
will  be  his  own  executor  ;  that  he  will  enjoy  the 
godlike  satisfaction  of  doing,  himself,  for  God, 
what  you  will  leave  to  be  done  by  others.  You 
profess  to  regard  yourself  only  as  the  steward  of 
your  ])roperly,  and  God  as  its  supreme  Propri- 
etor ;  but  instead  of  employing  it  for  his  glory, 
and  rendering  to  him  a  periodical  account  of 
your  stewardship,  your  covetousness  makes  it 
necessary  that  death  should  deprive  you  of  your 
office,  in  order  that  the  property  you  hold  may 
not  lie  useless  forever.  Your  Lord  admonishes 
you  to  make  to  yourself  friends  of  the  mammon 
of  unrighteousness,  that  when  you  fail  tiiey  may 
receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations ;  but, 
however  welcome  the  arrival,  and  cheering  the 
reception,  of  the  benevolent  Christian  in  heaven, 
it  is  evident  that  no  such  a  greeting  can  be  there 
awaiting  you  :  the  only  signs  of  joy  your  spirit 
will  meet  with,  will  be  occasioned  by  the  libera- 
tion of  your  property  by  the  hand  of  death,  and 
as  such,  they  will  wear  the  aspect  of  upbraiding 
and  reproach.  And  when  your  Lord  shall  come 
to  receive  his  own  with  usury,  instead  of  being 
able  to  refer  to  the  multiplication  of  the  talents 
with  which  he  intrusted  you,  tliat  multii)licati<jn 
will  have  yet  to  commence,  lor  your  talents  will 
only  just  then  have  emerged  into  the  light ;  you 


184 


EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 


will  have  drawn  on  yourself  the  doom  of  the  un- 
profitable servant.  You  are  reversing  the  di- 
vine arrangement,  which  would  have  caused  your 
death  to  be  deprecated  as  a  loss,  and  you  are 
voluntarily  classing  yourself  with  the  refuse  of 
society,  whose  death  is  regarded  as  a  gain  :  those 
who  might  have  prayed  for  your  continuance  on 
earth  as  a  benefit  to  the  church,  are,  for  that 
very  reason,  tempted  rather  to  desire  your  de- 
parture. Were  your  conduct  to  be  generally 
adopted,  what  loss  would  the  cause  of  Christ 
sustain  by  the  death  of  half  the  Christian  world? 
so  completely  is  that  conduct  at  variance  with 
the  divine  arrangements,  that  such  a  bereave- 
ment, which  we  cannot  contemplate  now  with- 
out horror,  would,  in  such  a  case,  become  indis- 
pensable to  the  continuance  of  his  cause  upon 
earth. 

But  another  question  remains  :  having  shown 
that  dying  charity  is  a  miserable  substitute  for 
living  benevolence,  it  is  now  important  to  inquire 
what  the  amount  of  your  charitable  bequests 
may  be.*  We  are  aware  that  this  question  of 
proportion  is  one  entirely  between  you  and  God ; 
and  one  which  must  be  regulated  by  circum- 
stances of  which  you  are  to  be  supposed  the  best 
judge.  In  the  great  majority  of  instances,  how- 
ever, the  portion  of  a   testator's  property  which 

*  The  writer  v.ould  take  the  liberty  of  recommending 
an  excellent  little  work,  called  "  Testamentary  Counsels," 
published  by  Ward  and  Co.;  containmg  much  on  the 
subject  of  charitable  bequests,  that  is  entitled  to  the  serious 
attention  of  the  Christian  reader. 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  185 

ounrlit  to  be  set  apart  for  benevolent  purposes  is 
more  clear  to  any  disinterested,  consistent  Chris- 
tian, than  it  is  to  tlie  testator  himself. 

Have  you  not  reason  to  suspect  that  such  is 
ilie  fact  in  relation  to  yourself?  Does  not  your 
present  parsimony  towards  the  objects  of  Chris- 
tian benevolence  justify  the  fear,  that  the  amount 
which  you  have  devised  for  such  purposes,  is 
most  disproportionately  small  ?  And  yet,  small 
as  it  is,  it  is  your  will.  In  discharging  your 
testamentary  duties,  you  naturally  remember 
those  persons  and  objects  whicli  hold  the  dearest 
place  in  your  aftections  ; — your  supreme  friend 
is  Christ,  and  yet,  that  he  should  be  put  off  with 
that  insulting  pittance,  is  your  will.  You 
make  your  testamentary  arrangements  in  the 
prospect  of  leaving,  what  you  properly  designate, 
a  world  of  misery;  much  more  of  your  property 
might  be  left  to  the  alleviation  of  that  misery, 
but  that  it  shall  not  be  so  appropriated  is  your 
WILL.  You  make  those  arrangements  in  the 
prospect  of  being  received  into  perfect  blessed- 
ness: you  entertain  the  hope  that  while  survivors 
are  inspecting,  for  the  first  time,  the  distribution 
which  you  have  made  of  your  property,  your 
emancipated  spirit  will  be  enjoying  the  happiness 
of  the  just  made  perfect — but  that  next  to  none 
of  that  hap|)iness  shall  arise  from  the  right  em- 
ployment of  that  property,  is  your  will. 

This  robbery  of  the  Christian  cause,  remem- 
ber, is  your  will; — not  a  mere  passing  thought, 
not  a  precipitate,  unconsidered  act ;  but  an  act 
which  you  formally  preface  with  saying,  that  you 


186  EXCUSES   OF    COVETOUSNESS 

perform  it  "  being  in  sound  mind," — in  a  word, 
it  is  tlie  deliberate  act  of  that  sovereign  part  of 
your  nature,  your  will.  After  having  defraud- 
ed the  cause  of  Christ  of  your  property  during 
life,  you  take  the  most  effective  measures  to  per- 
petuate the  fraud  after  death  ;  and  you  do  this 
with  the  full  consent  of  all  the  powers  of  your 
mind — you  impress  it  with  the  sovereign  seal  of 
your  WILL.  Yes,  this  is  your  will,  which  you 
are  content  to  have  for  a  dying  pillow,  and  on 
which  you  propose  to  rest  your  tlying  head  ! 
Your  will — and  therefore  a  part  of  your  ^repara- 
tionfor  death  !  Your  ivill — avowedly  prepared, 
(monstrous  inconsistency  !)  that  the  subject  of 
your  property  may  not  disturb  you  in  death !  that 
you  may  be  able  to  think  of  it  with  peace  !  Your 
will — made,  partly,  as  a  preparation  for  the 
awful  moment  when  it  shall  be  said  to  you, 
**Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship  ;  "  made 
on  the  way  to  that  judgment-seat,  where  one  of 
the  first  inquiries  will  relate  to  the  use  which  you 
have  made  of  your  various  talents  !  Christian 
professor,  be  entreated.  What  your  death-bed 
would  have  been  had  your  attention  never  been 
called  to  this  subject,  it  is  not  for  man  to  sur- 
mise ;  but  should  you  allow  your  will  to  remain 
unaltered,  now  that  your  conscience  has  been 
admonished,  do  not  wonder  if  you  find  your 
dying  pillow  to  be  filled  with  thorns.  Retrieve, 
at  once,  your  guilty  error,  by  augmenting  your 
bequests  to  the  cause  of  mercy  ;  or,  better  still, 
become  your  own  executor,  and  enjoy  at  once 
the  luxury  of  doing  good  ;  or,  last  of  all,  do  both 
— if  the  nature  of  your  property  permit,  do  both. 


FOR    ITS    WANT     OF    LIBERALITY.  187 

It  is  impossible  to  look  at  the  existing  state  of 
the  finance  of  the  Redeemer's  empire,  without 
perceiving  that  tlie  entire  st/stcni  of  Christian 
cliarity  requires  revision.  Here  and  there  an 
individual  is  to  be  found,  who  appears  to  be 
economizing  his  resources  and  employing  them 
for  God  :  but  the  very  admiration  in  which  such 
an  one  is  held  in  his  circle,  implies,  that  he 
stands  there  alone.  The  light  of  a  Reynolds,  a 
Thornton,  a  Broadley  Wilson,  an  unostentatious 
L — ,  shines  so  conspicuously  on  account  of  the 
surrounding  darkness.  In  every  section  of  the 
Christian  church,  a  spirit  of  self-denying  benev- 
olence is  the  exception,  and  a  spirit  of  worldly 
self-indulgence  which  leaves  little  for  God,  is 
the  rule.  Nor  can  a  thoughtful  Christian  reflect 
on  the  growing  necessities  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  and  the  imploring  attitude  of  the  heathen 
world,  and  then  remember  how  insignificant  a 
proportion  of  the  vast  pecuniary  resources  of  the 
Christian  church  is  at  present  appropriated  to 
the  demands  of  that  kingdom  and  the  salvation 
of  that  world,  to  say  nothing  of  the  difficulty  with 
which  even  that  little  is  obtained,  without  feeling 
that  among  the  revolutions  which  must  precede 
the  universal  reign  of  Christ,  one  must  be,  arev- 
olution  in  the  economy  of  Christian  benevolence. 

It  is  a  subject  deserving  the  most  serious  con- 
sideration of  the  Christian  church, — how  much 
its  comparative  want  of  success  in  attempting 
to  enlarge  the  empire  of  Christ,  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  its  prevailing  covetousness.  How  incalculably 
greater  the  success  of  the  Christian  enterprise 
17 


188  EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 

might  have  been,  had  we  only  acted  up  to  our 
conviction  of  Christian  liberality!  What  could 
have  stood  before  a  spirit  which  evinced  a  readi- 
ness to  give  up  all  for  Christ  ?  The  world  would 
have  beheld  in  such  conduct  an  argument  for 
the  reality  and  power  of  the  gospel  which  it  could 
not  misunderstand,  could  not  gainsay.  "God, 
even  our  own  God,  would  have  blessed  us  " — 
would  have  gloried  to  own  such  a  people,  and  to 
have  distinguished  us  with  his  blessing  before 
the  eyes  of  the  world — "  God  would  have  blessed 
us  ;  "  and,  as  a  consequence,  "  all  the  ends  of 
the  earth  would  have  feared  him." 

What  would  have  been  the  history  of  the 
primitive  Christians,  had  they  been  cursed  with 
the  love  of  money  as  the  Christians  of  the  present 
day  are  ?  Taking  into  the  account  their  deep 
poverty,  and  the  absence  of  all  the  present  facil- 
ities for  prosecuting  their  aggressive  designs,  a 
very  small  circle  would  have  bounded  the  extent 
of  their  labors,  and  a  single  page  have  sufficed 
for  the  history  of  their  exploits.  But,  feeling 
the  momentous  nature  of  the  object  in  which 
they  were  embarked,  that  the  salvation  or  perdi- 
tion of  the  world  depended  instrumentally  on 
their  conduct,  they  laid  aside  every  vVeight,  cast 
their  all  into  the  treasury  of  benevolence,  and 
held  themselves  free  and  ready  to  do  their  Lord's 
behests, — and  he  caused  them  to  triumph  in  ev- 
ery place. 

We  are  professedly  treading  in  their  steps. 
We  have  received  from  them  the  standard  of  the 
cross,  and  are  carrying  it  forward   against  the 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBEllALITY.  189 

common  foe.  But,  though  avowedly  warring 
vith  llie  world,  have  we  not  taken  a  wedge  of 
gold,  and  hidden  it  in  the  camp  1  If  the  pres- 
ence of  one  Achan  was  sufficient  to  account  for 
tlie  discomfiture  of  Israel,  can  we  be  surprised 
at  tlie  limited  nature  of  our  success,  when  every 
tribe  of  our  Ciiristian  Israel  has  its  Achan,  and 
almost  every  tent  its  "  accursea  thing?"  Has 
not  the  cupidity  of  Christians  made  the  very 
profession  of  disinterested  benevolence  to  be 
laughed  at  by  the  world,  and  to  be  suspected 
even  among  themselves  1  Have  not  deeds  of 
self-sacrificing  liberality,  such  as  would  have 
been  looked  on  in  the  primitive  church  as  mat- 
ters of  course,  become  so  rare  among  Christians, 
that  the  man  who  should  perform  them  now,  if 
he  did  not  actually  endanger  his  reputation, 
would  at  least  incur  the  suspicions  of  a  large 
proportion  of  his  fellow-professors  ?  The  spirit 
of  primitive  liberality  has  so  far  departed /rom 
the  church,  that  they  would  eye  him  with  an 
astonishment  which  would  prove  that,  if  sympa- 
thy be  necessary  to  com|)rehend  his  conduct, 
they  must  remain  in  guilty  ignorance.  Is  there 
not  reason  to  conclude,  that  many  a  noble  offer- 
ing lias  been  lost  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  and 
many  an  incipient  impulse  of  benevolence  re- 
pressed, through  a  dread  of  that  singularity 
which  it  might  seem  to  affect,  as  viewed  by  a 
selfish  eye.  One  great  reason,  it  has  been  said, 
why  men  practise  generosity  so  little,  is,  because 
there  are  so  few  generous  persons  to  stimulate 
others  by  their  example  ;  and  because  (it  might 


190  EXCUSES   OP    COVETOUSNESS 

have  been  added)  they  dreaded  the  charge  of 
singularity,  or  ostentation,  to  which  their  hberal- 
ity  would  have  exposed  them.  And  if  many  a 
human  gift  has  been  lost  to  the  cause  of  Christ 
owing  to  this  repulsive  spirit  of  cupidity,  can  we 
wonder  if  it  has  deprived  the  church  of  many  a 
divine  blessing  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
showered  on  it  1  The  church  has  indulged  in  a 
selfish  and  contracted  spirit,  until  it  has  gone  far 
to  disqualify  itself  for  receiving  great  things, 
either  from  God  or  man. 

And,  in  the  same  way,  the  church  has  inca- 
pacitated itself  for  achieving  great  things.  There 
is  no  necessity  for  supposing  an  arbitrary  with- 
holdment  of  the  divine  blessing,  or  the  existence 
of  a  judicial  sentence,  in  order  to  account  for  its 
limited  usefulness.  Indeed,  the  measure  of 
success  which  has  crowned  its  endeavors,  would 
discountenance  such  an  idea  ;  for  that  success 
has  been  granted  to  the  full  amount  of  its  labors. 
It  is  the  limitation  of  its  labors  and  sacrifices 
alone,  which  has  restricted  its  usefulness;  and 
the  reason  of  that  restriction  is  to  be  found  in 
its  selfishness.  What  Bacon  says  of  the  influ- 
ence of  riches  on  virtue,  may  be  adapted  and 
applied,  in  the  most  extensive  sense,  to  their  in- 
fluence on  the  spirit  of  the  Christian  enterprise. 
They  have  proved  the  baggage,  the  impedimenta 
of  the  Christian  army  ;  for  as  the  baggage  is  to 
an  army,  so  is  wealth  to  the  Christian  enterprise, 
it  hindereth  the  march,  and  the  care  of  it  some- 
times loseth  or  disturbeth  the  victory. 

And  the  variety  of  ways  in  which  it  operates 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  191 

\o  this  effect,  mi^lit  supply  us  with  an  answer  to 
tliose  who  may  fancy  that  we  are  ascribing  too 
much  to  the  influence  of  wealth,  and  overlooking 
other  important  considerations.  It  is  precisely 
owing  to  its  influence  on  those  other  important 
things — especially,  on  the  spirit  of  prayer,  and 
on  Christian  self-dedication — that  the  love  of 
the  world  acquires  its  potency  of  evil.  Prayer 
is  its  appointed  antidote;  but  it  keeps  the  Chris- 
tian from  the  closet,  or  else  divides  his  heart 
with  God  while  there.  And  as  to  his  high  office 
of  appearing  before  God  as  a  suppliant  for  the 
world,  an  earnest  intercessor  for  his  race,  it 
barely  allows  him  time  to  pray  for  himself  A 
clear  and  steady  view  of  the  cross  would  heal 
the  malady,  would  cause  his  heart  to  swell  with 
the  lofty  emotion  that  he  is  not  his  own,  and  im- 
pel him  to  lay  himself  out  for  that  blessed  Sa- 
vior whose  property  he  is  ;  but  the  malady  itself 
prevents  him  from  beholding  the  remedy.  As  if 
an  Israelite  had  been  so  wounded  as  to  be  unable 
to  see  the  brazen  serpent  erected  for  his  cure, 
the  spirit  of  selfishness  has  partially  blinded  the 
Christian  to  the  sight  of  the  cross.  It  only  al- 
lows him  to  see  it  as  in  a  mist ;  and  so  complete- 
ly does  it  engross  his  time,  and  drive  him  hither 
and  thither  in  its  service,  that  he  seldom  looks 
at  the  cross  sufficiently  long  either  to  see  its 
glory  or  to  feel  its  power.  And  might  we  not 
appeal  to  a  large  number  of  Christian  j;rofessors, 
whether  during  those  rare  moments  wiien  they 
have  caught  a  glimpse  of  that  self-dedication 
to  Christ,  which  he  claims  at  their  hands,  a 
17* 


192  EXCUSES    OF    COVETOUSNESS 

perception  at  the  same  time  of  the  sacrifices  and 
self-denial  to  which  that  consecration  of  them- 
selves would  necessarily  lead,  has  not  been  suf- 
ficient to  make  that  sight  of  his  claims  unwel- 
come, and  induced  them  to  turn  their  attention 
in  another  direction  ?  Thus  the  spirit  we  are 
deprecating,  proves  itself  to  be  still  entitled  to 
the  bad  pre-eminence  assigned  to  it  by  the  Apos- 
tle— it  is  "  the  root  of  all  evil."  Like  the  drunk- 
enness which  the  Demon  is  said  to  have  chosen 
for  his  victim,  because  he  knew  it  would  lead  to 
other  sins,  it  is  a  kind  of  moral  intoxication 
which  never  exists  alone  ;  it  not  only  robs  the 
cause  of  Christ  of  the  liberality  of  his  followers, 
but  also  of  their  prayers  and  cordial  dedication. 
But  at  the  same  time  that  this  spirit  disqualifies 
his  people  for  extensive  usefulness,  it  places  the 
great  Head  of  the  church  himself  under  a  moral 
restraint  from  employing  and  blessing  them.  A 
covetous  community  ! — how  can  he  consistently 
employ  such  to  convert  the  world  ;  especially, 
too,  as  that  conversion  includes  a  turning  from 
covetousness  ?  Not,  indeed,  that  his  cause  is 
necessarily  dependent  for  success  on  our  liberal- 
ity ;  and,  perhaps,  when  his  people  shall  be  so 
far  constrained  by  his  love  as  to  place  their  prop- 
erty at  his  disposal,  he  may  most  convincingly 
show  them  that  he  has  never  been  dependent  on 
it,  by  completing  his  kingdom  without  it.  But 
while  he  chooses  to  work  by  means,  those  means 
must  be  in  harmony  with  his  own  character — and 
what  is  that  but  the  very  antithesis  of  selfishness, 
infinite  benevolence  1     He  regulates  those  means 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  193 

by  laws  ;  and  one  of  those  laws  is,  that  "  from 
him  that  hath  not  sliall  he  taken  away  even  tliat 
which  he  hath  ;  "  that  he  not  only  will  employ 
the  covetous,  but  will  deprive  him  of  that  which 
he  guiltily  withholds  from  his  service. 

We  pray  for  the  cominj::  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ ;  and  wonder,  at  times,  that  our  heartless, 
disunited,  inconsistent  prayers  are  not  more  suc- 
cessful. But  what  do  we  expect?  Let  it  be 
supposed  that  a  convocation  of  all  the  Christians 
upon  earth  should  be  held,  to  implore  the  con- 
version of  the  world.  How  justly  might  an  an- 
cient prophet  be  sent  from  God  to  rebuke  them, 
and  say,  "  The  means  for  the  conversion  of  the 
world  are  already  in  your  hands.  Had  you 
been  dependent  on  human  charity  for  support, 
you  might  have  then  expected  to  see  your  Al- 
mighty Lord  erect  Iiis  kingdom  by  miracle  ;  or, 
you  might  have  warrantably  come  to  his  throne 
to  implore  the  mean-s  necessary  for  carrying  it 
on  by  your  own  instrumentality.  But  these 
means  are  actually  in  your  hands.  You  are 
asking  him  to  do  that,  the  very  means  for  doing 
which  are  at  this  moment  locked  up  in  your  cof- 
fers, or  wasted  in  costly  self-gratification.  For 
what  purpose  has  he  placed  so  much  wealth  in 
your  hands  ?  Surely  not  to  consume  it  in  self- 
indulgence.  '  Is  it  time  for  you,  O  ye,  to  dwell 
in  your  ceiled  houses,  and  this  house  to  lie  waste  1 
Now,  therefore,  thus  saith  the  Lord,  consider 
your  ways.'  Look  abroad  over  your  assembled 
myriads ;  calculate  the  immense  resources  of 
wealth   placed    at  your  disposal ;    imagine  that 


194  EXCUSES    OP    COVETOUSNESS 

you  were  to  be  seized  with  a  noble  generosity, 
like  that  which  at  different  times  descended  on 
the  ancient  people  of  God,  and  then  say,  what 
enterprise  would  be  too  vast  for  your  means? 
*  Ye  are  cursed  with  a  curse  ;  for  ye  have  rob- 
bed me,  even  this  whole  nation.  Bring  ye  all 
the  tithes  into  the  storehouse,  that  there  may  be 
meat  in  mine  house,  and  prove  me  now  here- 
with, saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  if  I  will  not  open 
the  windows  of  heaven  and  pour  you  out  a  bless- 
ing, that  there  shall  not  be  room  enough  to  re- 
ceive it.'  Make  this  consecration  of  your  sub- 
stance to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  and  then  come 
and  ask  for  the  conversion  of  the  world.  But, 
till  then,  come,  rather,  to  humble  yourselves 
before  him  for  embezzling  the  property  with 
which  he  has  entrusted  you  for  his  cause,  and 
expending  it  on  yourselves.  Come,  and  ask  him 
to  destroy  '  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of 
the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life;  '  and  to  pour 
upon  his  church  a  spirit  of  Christian  liberality. 
Till  then,  ask  only,  and,  in  common  consistency, 
expect  only,  that  he  will  bless  you  to  the  amount 
of  your  sacrifices  for  his  cause.  What  he  may 
choose  to  do  more,  by  an  exercise  of  his  sove- 
reignty, is  not  for  you  to  surmise  ;  but  for  you  to 
ask  him  to  do  more,  is  to  ask  him  to  proclaim 
himself  to  the  world  the  patron  of  your  cupidity.'* 

And  while  we  were  listening  to  this  righteous 
rebuke,  should  we  not  feel  that  we  were  standing 
before  the  Lord  in  our  iniquity  ?  would  not  con- 
fusion cover  us  ? 

It  is  recorded,  to  the  high  honor  of  certain  an- 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  195 

cient  believers,  that  "  God  Avas  not  ashamed  to 
be  called  their  God."  And  the  reason  assigned 
is,  that,  instead  of  coveting  earthly  possessions, 
or  seeking  their  happiness  in  worldly  objects, 
they  placed  all  they  held  in  the  hands  of  God, 
lived  only  for  his  glory,  and  **  declared  plainly 
that  they  sought  a  better  country,  that  is,  a  heav- 
enly." Of  such  a  people  God  was  not  ashamed ; 
they  did  not  disgrace  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  ;  their  conduct  proclaimed  their  celestial 
descent;  he  gloried  in  them  ;  he  could  point  the 
attention  of  the  world  to  them  with  divine  com- 
placency ;  he  could  entrust  his  character  in  their 
hands  ;  he  could  leave  the  world  to  infer  what 
he  was,  from  what  they  were  ;  he  was  content 
to  be  judged  of  from  the  conduct  of  his  people. 
Could  he  leave  his  character  to  be  inferred  from 
the  conduct  of  his  people  now  1  His  spirituality 
— could  the  world  infer  that  from  any  remarka- 
ble abstraction  from  earth  apparent  in  their  con- 
duct ?  or  is  there  any  thing  in  the  manner  and 
extent  of  their  liberality  which  would  remind  the 
world  of  Iiis  vast  unbounded  benevolence  ?  They 
know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that, 
though  he  was  rich,  for  their  sakes  he  became 
poor,  that  they  through  his  poverty  might  be  rich; 
— but  from  what  part  of  their  conduct  would  the 
world  ever  learn  this  melting  truth  ?  No,  in 
these  respects,  he  is  ashamed  to  be  called  their 
God.  Their  self-indulgence  misrepresents  his 
self-sacrifice.  Their  covetousness  is  a  shame 
to  his  boundless  beneficence.  His  character  is 
falsified  by  them  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.     Nor 


196 


EXCUSES   OF    COVETOUSNESS 


could  he  honor  them  in  any  distinguished  man- 
ner before  the  world,  without  endorsing  and  con- 
firming that  falsification  of  his  character.  He  is 
yearning  for  the  happiness  of  the  perishing 
world  ;  but  such  is  his  divine  plan,  that  he  has 
only  the  instrumentality  of  his  church  to  work 
by,  and  that  is  so  steeped  in  the  spirit  of  selfish- 
ness, that  his  grace  is  held  under  restraint. 

And  even  the  limited  degree  in  which  their 
selfishness  has  allowed  him  to  ble-ss  their  agency 
in  his  cause,  begins  to  be  found  inconvenient  to 
that  selfishness.  For,  what  is  the  most  frequent 
complaint  of  those  who  are  deputed  to  manage 
that  agency  :  not  that  God  is  withholding  his 
blessing  from  their  proceedings  ;  but  that,  owing 
to  that  blessing,  a  demand  has  been  created  for 
the  gospel  which  they  are  unable  to  supply;  a 
harvest  has  been  raised  which  they  are  unable  to 
reap  ;  a  tract  of  territory  so  extensive  has  been 
conquered,  that,  unless  the  resources  placed  at 
their  command  are  greatly  augmented,  they  will 
not  be  able  to  subdue  and  retain  it. 

There  was  a  time  when  we  thought  there  was 
1  •  • 

nothing  to  dread  but  a  want  of  success — nothing 

to  be  prayed  for  but  success.  But  we  did  not 
duly  consider  the  peculiar  kind  of  success  which 
our  selfishness  required  ;  a  cheap  and  unexpen- 
sive  success,  which  should  support  itself,  and 
which  should  leave  our  spirit  of  cupidity  untax- 
ed and  undisturbed.  We  have  now,  however, 
begun  to  discover  that  success  itself,  of  a  certain 
description,  may  be  attended  with  the  most  se- 
rious  inconveniences — inconveniences,  that  is, 


FOR    ITS    WANT    OF    LIBERALITY.  197 

to  selfish  Christians ;  that  we  need,  in  connec- 
tion with  success,  a  divine  preparation  to  receive, 
and  improve,  and  enjoy  it.  Yes,  we  feel  per- 
suaded, that  we  must  have,  and  shall  have,  a 
change  in  the  church,  before  we  shall  witness 
the  renovation  of  the  world  ;  that  the  predictions 
of  Scripture  concerning  the  church  must  be  ful- 
filled, before  those  concerning  the  world  shall  be 
accomplished;  that  the  temperature  of  Christian 
piety  has  yet  to  be  raised  many  degrees;  that 
plans  will  be  executed  for  the  icliflTusion  of  the 
gospel,  which  have  not  yet  been  imagined ; 
that  efforts  and  sacrifices  will  yet  be  made  on  so 
gigantic  a  scale,  as  to  throw  the  puny  doings  of 
the  present  day  completely  into  the  shade. 


PART    THE     THIRD. 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED     AND     ENFORCED. 


18 


SECTION    I. 


CHRISTIAN   LIBERALITY   EXPLAINED. 

To  assert  that  the  cause  of  Christian  liberality 
exhibits  no  signs  of  improvement,  would  only 
evince  insensibility  to  obvious  facts,  and  ingrati- 
tude to  the  great  Head  of  the  church.  Even 
the  feeling  which  has  called  for  "an  essay,  bear- 
ing upon  selfishness  as  it  leads  us  to  live  to  our- 
selves, and  not  unto  God  and  our  fellow-men," 
is  to  be  viewed  as  an  indication  that  many  a 
Christian  more  than  ever  deplores  that  selfish- 
ness. While  the  ready  assent  which  is  generally 
accorded  to  every  faithful  appeal  as  to  the  neces- 
sity of  increased  liberality  to  the  cause  of  God  ; 
the  growing  conviction  of  the  church,  that,  com- 
pared with  what  will  be  done,  we  are  at  present 
doing  nothing ;  the  approbation  with  which  every 
new  expedient  for  augmenting  the  funds  of  be- 
nevolence is  hailed  ;  the  streams  which  appear 
in  almost  every  new  channel  of  mercy  as  soon  as 
it  is  opened  ;  and  the  increase  of  funds  which 
our  great  benevolent  institutions   have    almost 


202       CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

annually  to  announce, — all  concur  to  show,  that 
the  church  is  not  only  dissatisfied  with  its  past 
parsimony,  but  is  gradually  awaking  to  the 
claims  of  Christian  liberality. 

But,  pleasing  as  the  circumstances  are,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  they  are  little  more  than 
indications  of  improvement.  All  the  great  de- 
fects in  the  charity  of  the  Christian  church  re- 
main, with  very  slight  modifications.  It  is  still 
adapted  to  a  former  state  of  comparative  inac- 
tivity, rather  than  to  the  present  period  of  Chris- 
tian enterprise.  It  waits  for  impulses  and  ap- 
peals. It  wants  calculation,  proportion,  and  self- 
denial.  It  does  not  keep  pace  with  the  growing 
demands  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  It  wants 
principle  and  plan.  The  great  current  of  Chris- 
tian property  is  as  yet  undiverted  from  its  worldly 
channel.  The  scanty  rills  of  charity,  which  at 
present  water  the  garden  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
ingenuity  and  effort  employed  to  bring  them 
there,  compared  with  the  almost  undiminished 
tide  of  selfish  expenditure  which  still  holds  on 
its  original  course,  remind  one  of  the  slender  riv- 
ulets which  the  inhabitants  of  the  east  raise  from 
a  river  by  mechanical  force,  to  irrigate  their 
thirsty  gardens  ;  the  mighty  current,  meanwhile, 
without  exhibiting  any  sensible  diminution  of  its 
waters,  sweeping  on  in  its  ample  and  ancient 
bed  to  the  ocean. 

By  unwearied  diligence,  the  art  of  acquiring 
money  has  been  well-nigh  brought  to  perfection 
Nor  can  we  think  of  the  thousand  ways  in  which 
it    is   squandered    and    dissipated    by   artificial 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       203 

wants  and  worldly  compliances,  without  deplor- 
ing that  the  art  of  wasting  it  by  the  most  expe- 
ditions methods,  should  exhibit,  as  it  does,  the 
finish  and  completeness  of  a  system.  The  art  of 
iisino  it,  so  as  to  make  it  produce  the  greatest 
measure  of  happiness,  still  remains  to  be  prac- 
tised. This,  indeed,  the  gospel  alone  can  teach, 
and  has  taught  from  the  beginning.  In  the 
early  age  of  the  Christian  church,  the  heavenly 
art  of  embalming  property,  and  making  it  im- 
mortal, was  not  only  known  but  practised ;  but, 
like  the  process  of  another  embalming,  it  has 
now,  for  ages,  been  practically  lost.  Not  that 
its  principles  have  been  unknown  ;  these  have 
always  presented  themselves  on  the  page  of 
truth,  in  lines  of  living  light.  But,  though  be- 
nevolence has  never  been  unknown  as  a  theory, 
the  perverting  influence  of  a  worldly  spirit  has 
been  rendering  it  more  and  more  impracticable 
as  an  art.  So  that  now,  when  the  obvious  appli- 
cation of  its  principles  is  pointed  out,  and  the 
necessity  for  carrying  those  principles  into  prac- 
tice is  daily  becoming  more  urgent,  we  begin  to 
be  aware  of  the  vast  distance  to  which  the  church 
has  been  drifted  from  the  course  of  its  duty  by 
the  current  of  the  world,  and  how  difficult  it  will 
be  to  effect  a  return. 

As  an  important  preliminary  to  such  a  return, 
it  should  be  our  first  concern  to  repair  to  the 
living  oracles  of  God,  and  there,  in  an  humble 
devotional  spirit,  to  inquire  his  will  on  the  sub- 
ject. This,  of  itself,  would  be  gaining  an  im- 
portant step.  It  would  be  proclaiming  a  wide 
18* 


204       CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

secession  from  the  world  ;  for,  while  the  ungodly 
act  and  feel  as  if  their  property  were  absolutely 
and  irresponsibly  their  own,  we  should  be  thus 
acknowledging  that  we  hold  our  property  from 
God,  and  that  we  feel  ourselves  bound  to  consult 
his  will  as  to  the  manner  of  using  it.  The  un- 
reflecting Christian,  who  is  content  with  appear- 
ances and  professions,  no  doubt  imagines  that 
this  distinction  between  the  church  and  the 
world  exists  already.  Because  he  has  heard, 
until  the  sound  has  become  familiar,  that  all  we 
have  and  are  belongs  to  God,  and  has  never 
heard  the  proposition  contradicted,  he  fancies 
that,  on  this  point,  all  is  well.  But  it  is  precise- 
ly because  Christians  generally  have  practically 
repealed  this  principle,  and  trampled  it  under 
foot,  that  the  spirit  of  benevolence  has  almost 
been  lost  from  the  chureh.  While  the  practical 
recognition  of  this  single  principle,  simple  as  it 
is,  familiar  and  admitted  as  it  is  in  words,  would 
of  itself  produce  an  unimagined  change  in  favor 
of  evangelical  charity.  Geologists  tell  us  that 
were  the  poles  of  the  earth  to  be  shifted  but  a 
few  degrees,  the  ocean  would  rush  towards  the 
new  equator,  the  most  solid  parts  of  the  globe 
give  way,  and  the  earth  assume  an  aspect  entire- 
ly new.  The  solitary  principle,  thatwehold  our 
property  as  subordinate  agents  for  God,  were  it 
only  felt,  embraced,  allowed  to  have  unobstruct- 
ed operation  in  our  practice,  would,  of  itself,  be 
sufficient  to  break  up  the  present  system  of  self- 
ishness, and  to  give  an  entirely  new  aspect  to 
the  cause  of  benevolence. 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       205 

Let  the  Christian  reader,  then,  seek  to  have 
this  principle  \vrought  into  his  mind  as  an  ever- 
present  conviction.  Let  the  recollection  of  his 
property,  and  the  idea  of  God  as  its  supreme 
Owner,  stand  together  in  his  mind  in  close  and 
constant  union.  Let  him  remember  that  the 
supreme  Proprietorship  of  his  property  is  in  the 
hands  of  God  as  really  as  the  salvation  of  his 
soul  is;  and  that  the  will  of  God  is  law  here,  as 
much  as  in  the  more  spiritual  domain  of  faith. 
What  would  his  conduct  be,  had  he  been  left 
the  executor  of  that  property  by  a  wealthy 
friend  ?  Would  he  not  have  been  frequently 
recurring  to  the  ivill  of  the  testator,  that  he  might 
not  misapply  the  least  fraction?  His  supreme 
Friend  has  given  him  the  use  of  certain  property, 
accompanying  the  grant  with  a  specification  of 
his  will  concerning  its  application.  Nothing 
but  an  humble,  grateful,  obedient  heart  is  neces- 
sary in  studying  that  will,  in  order  to  find  that 
it  descends  to  rules,  limitations,  and  directions 
of  the  most  clear  and  minute  description.  And 
it  is  only  by  keeping  these  requirements  con- 
stantly open  before  him,  and  returning  to  study 
them  daily  in  that  spirit,  that  the  Christian  can 
escape  the  danger  of  appropriating  and  misap- 
plying that  which  belongs  to  his  Lord  and 
Master. 

In  the  scheme  of  evangelical  charity,  thepnre- 
ciplc  which  actuates  the  giver  is  of  paramount 
importance.  '*  He  that  giveth,  let  him  do  it 
with  simplicity."  The  gospel  rejects  alike  the 
tax  which  is  reluctantly  paid  by  fear,  the  bribe 


206       CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

which  is  given  to  silence  importunity,  the  sacri- 
fice vvhicli  is  offered  to  a  vain  ostentation,  and 
the  price  which  is  intended  to  purchase  a  place 
in  the  divine  favor,  or  as  a  ground  of  justification 
before  God.  The  only  offering  which  it  accepts 
is  that  which  originates  in  a  principle  of  love 
and  obedience  to  Christ,  and  which  hopes  and 
asks  for  divine  acceptance  through  him  alone. 
It  takes  the  Christian  to  the  cross,  and  there  it 
aims  to  touch  all  that  is  tender  and  generous  in 
his  nature,  while  it  says,  "  Ye  know  the  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he  was 
rich,  for  your  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  ye 
through  his  poverty  might  be  rich."  And  hav- 
ing made  its  appeal  at  the  cross,  having  provided 
and  plied  him  with  the  grand  motive  of  redeem- 
ing love,  it  will  accept  nothing  which  overlooks 
the  constraining  influence  of  that  principle. 

Familiarity  with  large  sums  of  money  may 
lead  a  person  to  make  benefactions  as  munificent 
as  the  heart  of  charity  could  wish.  Animal  gen- 
erosity may  act  the  donor  with  all  the  prompti- 
tude and  easy  grace  of  Charity  herself.  But 
*'  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the 
poor,  .  .  .  and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me 
nothing."  The  absence  of  evangelical  love  is 
the  want  of  the  incense  which  alone  could  im- 
part to  the  sacrifice  a  sweet-smelling  savor  unto 
God.  And  while  its  absence  would  reduce  the 
collected  gifts  of  a  nation  to  penury  itself,  its 
presence  imparts  to  a  widow's  mite  a  value, 
which  God  appreciates,  and  by  which  heaven  is 
enriched.    It  turns  "  a  cup  of  cold  water"  into 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       207 

a  sacramental  symbol  ;  for  it  is  given  "  in  re- 
membrance of  Christ.''  Suspended  from  the 
throne  of  lieaven,  it  transmutes  the  least  gift  that 
may  be  hung  on  it  into  a  jewel  destined  to  aug- 
ment the  glory  of  him  on  whose  head  are  "  many 
crowns." 

Tiiat  which  constitutes  the  superiority  of 
evangelical  piety,  as  a  self-propagating  and  dif- 
fusive system,  to  every  form  of  false  and  hetero- 
dox religion  is,  that  it  has  for  its  great  actuating 
principle  the  love  of  Christ.  This  is  "  the  seed 
in  itself;"  the  leaven  which  shall  never  cease 
to  ferment  till  it  has  leavened  the  entire  mass  of 
humanity.  Hence,  every  thing  which  would  ob- 
tain acceptance  with  God  must  exhibit  marks  of 
the  assimilating  and  sanctifying  power  of  this 
principle.  Nay,  every  thing  which  would  find 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  Christian  himself,  even 
his  own  acts  and  offerings  of  charity,  nmst  bear 
evident  relation  to  Christ,  or  receive  the  con- 
demnation of  liis  own  grateful  heart.  In  the 
exercise  of  a  holy  jealousy  for  his  blessed  Lord, 
he  is  led  to  scrutinize  his  motives,  to  trace  his 
benevolence  to  its  source,  to  examine  whether 
or  not  it  took  its  rise  at  the  cross  ;  and,  if  it  did 
not,  he  finds  cause  for  penitence  and  humiliation 
before  God.  Thus,  while  false  religion  makes 
his  alms-deeds  a  substitute  for  piety,  the  gospel 
heightens  benevolence  into  one  of  the  most  spir- 
itual and  improving  duties  the  Christian  can  per- 
form. For,  by  imbuing  his  heart  with  the  love 
of  God,  it  enables  him  to  taste  the  godlike  en- 
joyment of  doing  good  ;  and,  by  teaching  him 


208      CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED. 

to  refer  all  his  acts  of  benevolence  to  Christ,  to 
perform  them  as  expressions  of  gratilude  to  him, 
to  hope  for  their  acceptance  through  him,  and 
to  pray  that  they  may  tend  to  his  glory,  it  keeps 
him  near  to  the  cross,  in  an  atmospnere  of  spir- 
itual and  elevated  piety.  And  when  once  he 
has  become  native  to  the  element,  when  the  ex- 
pansive, delightful,  irresistible  power  of  the  Sa- 
vior's grace  has  become  his  ruling  motive,  he 
would  feel  an  inferior  principle  to  be  little  less 
than  degradation  and  bondage.  He  accounts 
the  costliest  sacrifice  he  can  offer  as  poor;  re- 
sents the  limits  which  a  cold  and  calculating  self- 
ishness would  impose  on  his  offerings  as  chains 
and  fetters;  and  if  called  to  pour  forth  his  blood 
as  a  libation  on  the  altar  of  Christian  sacrifice, 
he  would  feel  that  he  had  rendered  an  ample 
explanation  of  his  conduct,  by  saying,  with  the 
apostle,  "  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us." 

In  order  that  our  benevolence  may  become  a 
valuable  habit,  it  must  he  provided  ivith  regular 
resources.  Nothing  good  or  great  can  be  effect- 
ed without  p/a?i.  In  their  own  worldly  business, 
men  perceive  the  importance  of  method  ;  and,  if 
they  would  render  their  liberality  efficient,  they 
must  adopt  a  system  for  that  also.  On  this  sub- 
ject the  gospel  itself  prescribes, — *'  Upon  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  let  every  one  of  you  lay  by 
him  in  store  as  God  hath  prospered  him,  that 
there  be  no  gatherings  when  I  come."  "  By 
which,"  saith  Paley,  "  I  understand  St.  Paul  to 
recommend  what  is  the  very  thing  wanting  with 
most   men,    the  being  charitable   upon  a  plan ; 


CIiniSTIAN     LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       209 

that  is,  upon  a  deliberate  comparison  of  our  for- 
tunes with  tlie  reasonable  expenses  and  expecta- 
tions of  our  fiimilies,  to  compute  what  we  can 
spare,  and  to  lay  by  so  much  for  charitable  pur- 
poses." 

To  take,  indeed,  a  weekit/  account  how  God 
hath  prospered  us,  is  not  in  all  cases  possible  ; 
but  the  spirit  of  the  direction  would  be  equally 
satisfied  if,  on  taking  the  account  at  other  stated 
times,  we  only  lay  by  for  God  as  he  hath  pros- 
pered us.  Owing  to  the  want  of  a  plan  like  this, 
the  cause  of  Christ  is  often  an  unwelcome  and 
an  unsuccessful  applicant ;  selfishness,  which 
has  always  the  advantage  of  being  able  to  be  the 
first  claimant,  squanders  in  superfluities  what 
conscience  would  have  devoted  to  God  ;  and 
many,  it  is  to  be  feared,  from  not  having  where- 
with to  answer  the  calls  and  impulses  of  charity, 
as  they  arose  in  the  heart,  have  at  length  lost 
the  very  disposition  to  do  good.  While  the  ad- 
vantages arising  from  the  adoption  of  such  an 
arrangement  are  numerous,  we  are  under  less 
temptation  to  withhold  our  charity;  our  duty  is 
made  more  convenient  by  rendering  it  thus  in 
easy  instalments ;  our  love  to  Christ  is  more 
gratified  by  being  able  to  present  him  in  the  end 
with  a  larger  offering  ;  the  hand  of  God  is  reg- 
ularly recognised  in  our  worldly  affairs ;  his 
presence  is  invited,  so  to  speak,  into  the  very- 
heart  of  our  prosperity,  whence  the  world  is 
most  anxious  to  exclude  him,  invited  to  audit 
the  account  of  our  gains ;  our  offerings  are  pre- 
sented  with   cheerfulness,    because   they   come 


210      CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

from  a  fund  designed  expressly  to  no  other  end 
than  charity  ;  and  the  cause  of  benevolence,  no 
longer  a  dependant  on  precarious  charity,  is 
welcomed  and  honored  as  an  authorized  claim- 
ant, a  divine  creditor,  while  what  we  retain  for 
our  own  use  is  divinely  blessed  by  the  dedication 
of  the  rest  to  God. 

Nothing  that  is  good  or  great,  we  repeat,  can 
be  effected  without  plan.  Business,  to  be  suc- 
cessful, must  be  conducted  on  system ;  and  why 
should  not  the  book  which  records  the  occasional 
and  the  regular  contributions  of  charity  be  kept 
and  inspected  as  carefully  as  the  leger  of  trade  ? 
Covetousness  plans  for  selfish  purposes  ;  and 
why  should  not  benevolence  counter-plan,  and 
organize  its  resources  for  objects  of  divine  philan- 
thropy 1  Political  economy  plans  for  national 
purposes ;  and  why  should  there  not  be  an  ec- 
clesiastical economy  to  systematize  its  resources 
of  that  kingdom  which  is  not  of  this  world  1 
We  desire  not  a  revival  of  sumptuary  laws  to  re- 
strain extravagance  in  diet  and  dress,  but  a  tax 
self-levied  on  all  the  luxuries  and  indulgencies 
of  life.  We  ask  not  for  an  inquisitorial  Roman 
census,  but  for  a  conscientious  assessment  of  all 
the  property  of  the  Christian  church,  so  scrupu- 
lously made  and  regularly  repeated,  that,  like 
that  ancient  republic,  we  may  have  accurate  re- 
turns, from  time  to  time,  of  all  the  statistics  of  the 
Christian  empire,  and  may  know  our  resources 
for  war  with  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 

But  what  proportion  of  our  income  ought  we 
to  devote  to  charitable  uses  ?     If  Christian  love 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED.       211 

be  permitted  to  answer  this  question,  and  assign 
tlie  amount,  there  is  no  reason  to  fear  a  too 
scanty  allowance.  On  the  other  hand,  if  self- 
ishness be  suffered  to  decide,  there  is  ground  to 
fear  that  even  an  inspired  reply,  could  such  be 
obtained,  would  be  heard  only  to  be  overruled. 
Besides  which,  the  gospel  of  Christ,  in  harmony 
with  its  great  design  of  establishing  a  reign  of 
love,  leaves  its  followers  to  assess  themselves. 
It  puts  into  their  hands,  indeed,  a  claim  upon 
their  property,  but  leaves  the  question  hoic  much  1 
to  be  determined  by  themselves.  In  assisting 
them  to  till  up  the  blank  with  the  proper  assess- 
ment, the  only  step  which  it  takes  is  to  point 
them  to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  and,  while  their 
eye  is  fixed  there  in  admiring  love,  to  say,  **  How 
much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  ?  "  "  Freely  ye 
have  received,  freely  give." 

It  must  be  quite  unnecessary  to  remind  the 
Christian  that  a  principle  of  justice  to  man  must 
be  laid  as  the  basis  of  all  our  calculations  on 
this  subject.  *'  For  I  the  Lord  love  judgment, 
I  hate  robbery  for  burnt-offering."  To  present 
him  with  that  which  his  own  laws  of  justice 
would  assign  to  another,  is  to  overlook  the 
claims  of  even  ordinary  honesty,  and  to  make 
him  the  Patron  of  unrighteousness.  But,  while 
the  worldling  looks  on  justice  as  the  only  claim- 
ant on  his  property,  and  concludes  that  when 
that  is  satiijfied,  he  may  warrantably  sacrifice 
the  whole  remainder  to  himself,  the  Christian 
views  it  only  as  a  preparation  for  sacrificing  to 
God. 

19 


212      CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED. 

It  is  observable  that  Abraham  and  Jacob,  on 
particular  occasions,  voluntarily  devoted  to  God 
— what  afterwards  became  a  divine  law  for  the 
Jewish  nation, — a  tenth  of  their  property.  With- 
out implying  that  their  example  has  any  obliga- 
tion on  us,  we  may  venture  to  say  that  one  tenth 
of  our  whole  income  is  an  approved  proportion 
for  charity,  for  those  who,  with  so  doing,  are 
able  to  support  themselves  and  families.  For 
the  more  opulent,  and  especially  for  those  who 
have  no  families,  a  larger  proportion  would  be 
equally  easy.  For  some,  one  half  would  be  too 
little;  while,  for  others,  a  twentieth,  or  even  a 
fiftieth,  would  require  the  nicest  frugality  and 
care.  Indeed,  of  many  among  the  poor  it  may- 
be said,  that  if  they  give  any  thing  they  give 
their  share,  they  cast  in  more  than  all  their 
brethren. 

But,  in  determining  the  proportion  to  be 
made  sacred  to  God,  the  Chirstian  would  surely 
rather  exceed  than  fall  short  of  the  exact  amount. 
With  whom  is  he  stipulating  ?  For  whom  is  he 
preparing  the  offering  1  Well  may  the  recollec- 
tion put  every  covetous  thought  to  instant  flight ; 
tinging  his  cheek  with  shame  at  the  bare  possi- 
bility of  ingratitude  ;  and  impelling  him  to  lay 
his  all  at  the  feet  of  Christ.  Only  let  him  think 
of  the  great  love  wherewith  Christ  hath  loved 
him — only  let  him  pass  by  the  cross  on  his  way 
to  the  altar  of  oblation,  and  his  richest  offering 
will  appear  totally  unworthy  of  divine  accept- 
ance. When  Christ  is  the  object  to  be  honored, 
the  affection  of  the   pardoned   penitent   cannot 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED.       213 

top  to  calculate  the  value  of  its  alabaster  box  of 
j)recious  ointment — that  is  an  act  to  wliich  only 
a  Judas  can  sloop — its  chief  and  sole  regret  is 
that  the  unction  has  not  a  richer  perfume,  and  a 
higiier  value.  When  a  Zaccheus  finds  himself 
standing,  a  sinner  saved  by  grace,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Being  who  has  saved  him,  he  ex- 
claims, *'  Behold,  Lord,  the  half  o^  my  goods  I 
give  to  the  poor  ;  and  if  I  have  wronged  any 
man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore  unto  him 
four-fold."  Covetousness,  a  moment  before, 
was  enthroned  in  his  heart ;  but  now  it  is  beneath 
his  feet.  A  moment  ago,  wealth  was  his  idol : 
but  now  its  only  value  consists  i[i  furnishing  him 
with  an  offering  of  love  to  Christ.  What  things 
ivcrc  gain  to  him,  those  he  counted  loss  for  Christ. 
And  as  the  great  principle  of  love  to  Christ 
will  not  allow  the  more  opulent  to  give  scantily, 
so  neither  will  it  permit  the  poorest  to  come  be- 
fore him  empty.  It  was  one  of  the  divine  enact- 
ments even  of  the  legal  dispensation, — Nojie 
shall  come  before  me  empty.  But  that  which  was 
matter  of  law  with  the  Israelite,  the  Christian 
will  seize  as  a  golden  opportunity  for  evincing 
his  love  to  Christ  ;  and  will  bring,  though  it  be 
only  a  grain  of  incense  for  an  ottering,  or  a  leaf 
for  that  wreath  of  praise  and  honor  which  the 
church  delights  to  lay  at  the  feet  of  Christ. 
Whatever  Scripture  example  others  may  profess 
to  copy,  he  will  select  the  example  of  the  benev- 
olent widow;  and,  while  others  content  them- 
selves with  only  admiring  it,  he  will  often  reilect 
on  its  imitableness.     jNor  will   the  language  of 


214        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED. 

the  apostle  be  ever  heard  by  him  but  as  an  ad- 
dress to  himself, — *'  Let  him  labor,  working  with 
his  hand  the  thing  which  is  good,  that  he  may 
have  to  give  to  him  that  needeth."  "These 
hands  have  ministered  unto  my  necessities,  and 
to  them  that  were  with  me.  I  have  showed  you 
all  things,  how  that  so  laboring  ye  ought  to  sup- 
port the  weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said,  It  is  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive."  Agreeably  with  these 
sentiments,  the  man  who,  at  one  time,  imagined 
that  his  poverty  quite  exempted  him  from  the 
obligations  of  charity,  and  only  rendered  him  an 
object  of  it,  is  no  sooner  made  the  partaker  of 
grace,  than  he  feels  himself  impelled  to  place 
some  offering  on  the  altar  of  Christian  benevo- 
lence ;  and,  with  the  ready  eye  and  hand  of  af- 
fection, he  soon  detects,  for  this  end,  some  small 
superfluity  which  can  be  retrenched,  or  some 
leisure  time  which  can  be  profitably  employed. 
And  when  his  mite-like  offering,  the  fruit  of  hard 
self-denial,  or  of  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  is  pre- 
sented, nothing  could  inflict  on  his  grateful  heart 
a  deeper  wound  than  to  see  that  offering  reject- 
ed on  the  ground  of  its  comparative  insignifi- 
cance, or  of  his  supposed  inability  to  give  it. 
It  is  the  offering  of  a  sinner's  gratitude  to  a  Sa- 
vior's love,  and  Heaven  rejoices  over  the  ob- 
lation. 

A  well-digested  scheme  of  charity  will  be 
considerate  in  the  selection  of  its  objects.  The 
benevolence  which  has  not  prudence  for  its  al- 
moner, may  create  the  evils  which  it  meant  to 
destroy. 


CHRISTIAN    I.IBERALTTY    EXPLAINED.        215 

If  there  be  any  danger  in  this  respect,  in  the 
present  day,  it  does  not  lie  so  much  in  the  choice 
of  wrong  objects,  as  in  the  neglect  of  some  right 
ones.  The  principles  of  benevolent  institutions 
are  now  so  well  understood  ;  every  new  candi- 
date for  patronage  is  so  open  to  inspection  ;  and 
the  streams  of  charity  so  steadily  watched  from 
their  rise  to  the  point  of  their  destination,  that 
there  is  little  more  than  the  bare  possibility  of 
any  benevolent  institution  existing  long  in  a  state 
of  abuse,  or  so  as  to  generate  more  evil  than 
good.  Whatever  danger  now  exists,  arises  from 
the  rapid  multiplication  of  new  objects,  and  the 
consequent  liability  of  the  old  ones  to  desertion  ; 
and  still  more,  perhaps,  from  the  liability  of  those 
minor  objects  which  relate  exclusively  to  the 
bodily  welfare  of  man,  being  eclipsed  by  the 
surpassing  grandeur  and  magnitude  of  such  as 
relate  to  the  infinite  and  the  eternal. 

If,  fifty  years  ago,  a  patron  of  the  benevolent 
institutions  of  that  day  could  have  been  foretold 
of  the  number,  the  magnitude,  and  the  revenues 
of  the  great  evangelical  societies  which  at  pres- 
ent adorn  our  land,  he  might  surely  have  been 
excused  for  fearing  that  the  objects  of  his  re- 
gard would  in  consequence  be  displaced  and  for- 
gotten. But  the  event  has  shown  that  his  fears 
would  have  been  unfounded.  Experience  de- 
monstrates that  the  heart  which  responds  to  the 
cries  of  a  world  peri.shing  through  lack  of  knowl- 
edge, is  the  heart  which  most  readily  thrills  at 
the  cry  of  bodily  want ;  that  those  who  care  most 

for  the  souls  of  the  heathen,  are  amonff  the  most 
19* 


216        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED. 

active  agents  of  patriotic  and  local  charities  ; 
that  genuine  Christian  charity,  while  it  leaves 
no  object  unattempted  on  account  of  its  vastness, 
overlooks  none  on  account  of  its  minuteness. 
Copying,  in  this  respect,  the  example  of  Him 
who  on  his  way  to  the  cross,  to  save  a  world, 
often  stood  still  to  give  health  to  the  sick,  and 
to  wipe  away  the  tears  of  the  mourner ;  sowing, 
at  each  step,  the  seeds  of  those  various  institu- 
tions of  mercy  which  are  still  springing  up  in  his 
church ;  and  who,  while  suspended  on  the  cross 
in  the  crisis  of  human  redemption,  still  thought 
of  his  filial  relation,  and  tenderly  provided  for  a 
mother's  comfort. 

But  the  limited  sources  of  the  Christian  phi- 
lanthropist, compared  with  the  number  and  di- 
versity of  the  ol3Jects  soliciting  his  aid,  render 
selection  indispensably  necessary.  On  the  one 
hand,  he  must  not  confine  his  regards  to  objects 
purely  religious,  though  of  the  loftiest  and  most 
comprehensive  order,  to  the  neglect  of  that 
charity  which  draws  out  its  soul  to  the  hungry, 
and  which  visits  the  fatherless  and  widow  in 
their  affliction  ;  and,  on  the  other,  he  must  not 
limit  his  attentions  to  the  wants  of  the  life  that 
now  is,  and  remain  an  uninterested  spectator  of 
the  efforts  which  are  made  around  him  to  save  a 
world  from  perdition.  The  two  classes  of  ob- 
jects should  be  combined  in  his  regards.  By 
descending  to  the  one  class,  he  will  be  keeping 
his  benevolent  feelings  in  a  healthy,  active,  vig- 
orous state;  and  by  ascending  to  the  other,  he 
will  be  giving  them  scope  and  expansion,  diffu- 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED.        217 

sing  and  multiplying  tliem  over  tlic  whole  field 
of  mercy.  By  a  wise  distribution  of  his  means, 
he  may  connect  himself  with  all  the  objects  of 
beneficence,  from  the  casual  relief  of  the  mendi- 
cant, to  the  combined,  systematic  and  mighty 
project  of  the  Christian  church  to  make  the  Bi- 
ble the  book  of  the  world.  And  as  he  marks 
the  graduated  scale  of  Christian  charities  which 
stands  between  these  tvo  extremes,  he  will  con- 
scientiously consider  which  are  the  charities  that 
call  for  his  especial  ^^^)  ^"^  ^^e  pjoportion.  of 
support  which  each  demands. 

But  who^oes  not  feel  that  the  era  of  effective 
Christia"*  benevolence  has  yet  to  commence  ? 
Let  him  sketch  the  most  simple  scheme  of  benev- 
olence which  the  gospel  can  approve,  and  he 
wil/  perceive  at  every  step  that  he  is  writing  the 
condemnation  of  the  church.  Compared  with 
the  time,  indeed,  when  next  to  nothing  was  con- 
tributed to  the  cause  of  Christ,  we  may  now  be 
paid  to  give  much ;  but.  compared  with  what 
ought  to  be,  and  with  what  we  are  persuaded 
icill  be,  consecrated  to  God,  we  are  still  contrib- 
uting next  to  nothing.  The  sentiment  of  the 
church  on  the  subject  of  property  is  as  yet  very 
little  elevated  above  that  of  the  world  ;  deep- 
rooted  worldly  notions  have  yet  to  be  eradicat- 
ed ;  and  the  right  use  of  wealth  in  its  relation 
to  the  cause  of  Christ  to  be  taught  and  enforced 
as  an  essential  branch  of  Christian  practice. 
The  great  lesson  taught  by  our  Lord's  voluntary 
selection  of  a  state  of  poverty  is  yet  to  be  fully 
understood ;    the    evident    application   of  many 


218      CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

plain  passages  of  Scripture  to  be  made ;  doctrines 
startling  to  selfishness  to  become  familiar  and 
welcome  ;  sentiments  already  familiar  to  be  en- 
larged and  practically  applied  ;  the  word  benevo- 
lence itself  to  be  differently  understood ;  the 
demon  of  covetousness  to  be  cast  out  of  the 
church  ;  and  vhe  whole  economy  of  benevolence 
to  be  revised. 

And  who,  with  the  word  of  God  in  his  hand, 
but  must  feel  that  an  era  of  enlarged  Christian 
liberality  is-  hastening  on  ?     JProphecy  is   full  of 
it.     As  often  almost  as  she  opens  her  lips  on 
the  subject  of  Messiah's  reign,  the  consecration 
of  the  world's  wealth  forms  part  of  v.er  song. 
"  To  him  shall  be  given  of  the  gold  of  b'neba." 
*'  The   merchandise  of  Tyre   shall  be   holiness 
to  the  Lord  ;  it  shall  not  be  treasured  nor  laid  up." 
**  Surely  the  isles  shall  wait  for  me,  and  the  ships 
of  Tarshish  first,  to   bring   thy  sons  from   far, 
their  silver  and  their  gold  with  them,   unto  the 
name  of  the   Lord  thy   God."      *'  Kings  shall 
bring  presents  unto  him;"    "they  shall  bring 
gold  and  incense;  "  and  into  his  kingdom  "they 
shall  bring  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  nations." 
Wealth,  which  for  so  many  ages  has  robbed  him 
of  his  glory,  and  which  in  so  many  idolatrous 
forms  had   been  erected  in  his   stead,  shall  be 
brought  to  his  altar,  and  employed  as  the  fuel  of 
a  sacrifice  in  which  the  heart  shall  ascend  as  in- 
cense before  him.     It  will   then    be  felt  that  the 
highest  use  to  which  wealth  can  be  appHed  is  to 
employ  it  for  God  :  that  is   the  only  way  to  dig- 
pify  that  which  is  intrinsically  mean ;  to  turn  that 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       219 

whicli  is  perishinjT  into  unfading  crowns  and 
iinperij^Iiable  wealth.  As  if  the  image  and  su- 
perscription of  Christ  instead  of  Caesar — as  if  the 
l)aIlowed  impress  of  the  cross  itself  were  visible 
on  all  the  currency  of  earth,  his  people  shall  look 
on  all  their  wealth  as  the  property  of  Christ,  and 
be  constantly  meditating  the  means  of  employing 
it  most  advantageously  for  his  glory.  In  wed- 
ding his  church,  it  shall  then  be  felt  that  he 
wedded  her  wealth  also  ;  and,  bringing  it  forth, 
and  placing  it  at  his  feet  as  a  part  of  her  poor 
unworthy  dowry,  she  shall  wish  that  for  his  sake 
it  had  been  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
more. 

Now,  the  only  distinction  is  between  him 
that  gives  a  little,  and  him  that  gives  nothing  ; 
then,  a  new  classification  will  have  obtained. 
There  will  be  no  one  in  the  church  who  gives 
nothing;  his  place  will  be  occupied  by  him  who 
only  gives  little — by  which  will  be  meant  him 
who,  whatever  the  amount  of  his  gift  may  be, 
gives  only  from  his  superfluity  ;  while  the  hon- 
orable title  of  the  benevolent  will  be  reserved  for 
such  only  as  deny  themselves  in  order  that  they 
may  give  the  more.  Self-denial,  if  not  synony- 
mous with  benevolence,  will  then  be  considered 
an  essential  part  of  it.  He  who  gives  nothing 
will  be  looked  on  as  an  avowed  enemy  to  the 
cause  of  Christ:  he  who  only  gives  a  little  from 
his  superfluity  will  be  considered  covetous  ;  and 
he  only  who  adds  to  his  superfluity  the  precious 
savings  of  self-denial  besidec,  will  be  honored  as 
truly  charitable. 


220 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 


The  Christian  will  then  look  on  himself  in 
the  light  of  a  channel  between  God  and  his  fel- 
low-creatures— a  channel  prepared  expressly  for 
receiving  and  conveying  the  overflowings  of  the 
Fountain  of  goodness  to  those  around  him  ;  and 
accordingly  he  will  be  "  ready  to  distribute,  wil- 
ling to  communicate."  Not  content  with  the 
slender  supplies  of  his  own  property,  he  will 
seek  to  excite  the  liberality  of  others;  to  become 
their  almoner ;  to  swell  the  streams  of  his  own 
charity  by  the  contributions  of  others.  And  thus 
he  will  at  once  be  the  means  of  keeping  the  be- 
nevolence of  his  brethren  in  activity,  of  bringing 
greater  glory  to  God,  and  of  doing  greater  good 
to  the  world. 

The  Christian  parent  will  not  then  be  content 
with  teaching  his  children  the  art  of  getting 
money  most  easily  and  respectably,  or  of  spend- 
ing it  most  advantageously  to  themselves :  he  will 
train  them  to  habits  of  benevolence  ;  impress 
them  early  with  "  the  value  of  money  "  for  the 
cause  of  Christ ;  show  them  that  in  its  subser- 
viency to  that  cause  consists  its  chief  value  ;  that 
they  should  labor  with  their  hands,  rather  than 
be  destitute  of  the  means  of  giving.  He  will 
make  it  an  indispensable  object  of  their  educa- 
tion to  render  them  proficients  in  the  art  of  em- 
ploying their  substance  to  the  glory  of  God. 

As  far  as  his  means  enable  him,  he  will  pray 
only  to  give,  and  give  only  to  pray.  His  every 
prayer  will  contain  a  petition  for  a  more  abun- 
dant outpouring  of  the  spirit  of  Christian  Iberality 
and  dedication ;  and  the  very  feeling  which  im- 


CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY    EXPLAINED.       221 

pelled  him  to  utter  the  |)etition,  shall  impel  him, 
when  he  rises  from  his  knees,  to  devise  liberal 
things.  And  then,  having  gratified  the  divine 
impulse  to  the  utmost  extent  of  his  means,  he  will 
hasten  to  unload  his  grateful  heart  before  God, 
and  to  say,  "  Who  am  I,  that  I  should  be  able  to 
offer  so  willingly  after  this  sort  ?  for  all  things 
come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given 
thee."  Nay,  could  he  command  and  set  in  mo- 
tion all  the  benevolent  agencies  in  the  universe, 
the  same  godlike  motive  which  led  him  to  do  so 
would  then  impel  him  to  the  throne  of  God  to 
obtain  his  elHcacious  blessing  upon  the  whole. 
Having  put  all  human  agency  in  requisition,  he 
would  labor  and  wrestle  in  prayer  to  engage 
the  infinite  love  and  power  of  God. 

lie  will  receive  every  accredited  applicant  for 
the  cause  of  Christ,  as  a  messenger  deputed  from 
Christ  himself.  And,  as  if  his  blessed  Lord 
were  standing  before  him,  and  saying,  "  I  am 
hungry,  will  you  not  feed  me  ?  I  am  thirsty, 
will  you  not  give  me  drink  ?  I  am  a  stranger, 
will  you  not  take  me  in  1  My  cause  is  languish- 
ing for  want  of  support,  will  you  not  aid  it  1  " — 
he  will  hasten  to  bring  forth  his  all,  and  say, 
"O  Lord  my  God,  all  this  store  cometh  of  thine 
hand,  and  all  is  thine  own."  Li  doing  this,  in- 
deed, he  would  only  be  copying  the  example  of 
the  benevolent  widow  ;  but  though  that  example 
received  the  sanction  of  Christ,  and  as  such  was 
intended  to  be  j}wrc  than  admired  by  his  church, 
yet  who  could  imitate  it  at  present  without  in- 
curring, not   from  the  world   onlv,  bjJt   from  the 


222       CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

great  majority  of  Christian  professors  also,  the 
blame  of  great  improvidence  ?  But,  then,  her 
conduct  shall  be  regarded  as  exemplary ;  and  the 
Savior  himself  will  undertake  the  defence  of  her 
imitators,  and  say,  "  They  loved  much,  for  they 
have  much  forgiven." 

Now,  the  Christian  professor  too  commonly 
allows  his  regular  contribution  to  check  his  lib- 
erality, to  prevent  his  giving  more  than  the  stip- 
ulated sum,  though  there  are  times  when  his  be- 
nevolent impulses  would  prompt  him  to  exceed 
that  sum  ;  then  he  will  regard  his  subscription 
only  as  a  pledge  that  he  will  not  give  less,  but  as 
leaving  his  liberality  open  to  all  the  impulses  of 
an  unrestricted  benevolence.  Now,  he  is  too 
often  disposed  to  shun  the  applications  for  char- 
ity, and,  if  he  is  overlooked  and  passed  by,  to 
view  it  as  a  fortunate  escape;  but  then  he 
will  do  good  as  he  hath  opportunity — creating 
the  opportunity  which  he  cannot  find  already 
made  to  his  hands.  Now,  his  ability  exceeds 
his  inclination  ;  but  then  his  inclination  will  be 
greater  than  his  ability  ;  like  the  Macedonian 
Christians  of  whom  the  apostle  testifies,  "  I  bear 
them  record  that  to  their  power,  yea,  and  beyond 
their  power,  they  were  willing  of  themselves." 
Instead  of  being  charitable  only  on  comparative 
distraint,  he  will  often  anticipate  application, 
and  surprise  the  agents  of  beneficence  by  unex- 
pected gifts ;  thus  strengthening  their  faith  in 
God,  and  inciting  them  to  enlarge  their  designs 
for  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  like  the  same  believ- 
ers of  whom  the  apostle  records,  that,  instead  of 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED.       223 

needing  to  be  solicited,  they  entreated  liimto  ac- 
cept tlieir  contributions — '*  pf'^iyi'ig  us  with  much 
entreaty  to  accept  the  gift."  Like  the  happy  parent 
of  a  happy  family,  lie  will  hail  every  new-born 
claim  on  his  resources,  and  cheerfully  deny  him- 
self in  order  to  support  it.  And,  instead  of  giving, 
as  he  now  does,  as  scantily  as  if  he  only  aimed  to 
keep  the  Christian  cause  from  famishing,  he  will 
then  act  on  the  persuasion  tiiat  his  own  enjoy- 
ment is  identified  with  its  growth  and  prosperity. 

And  let  it  not  be  supposed  that  during  that 
happy  period  it  will  be  necessary  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  Christian  interest  that  its  friends 
should  live  in  a  state  of  comfortless  self-denial. 
'V\\G  prevalence  of  the  benevolent  spirit  will  ren- 
der this  superfluous.  When  the  thousand  drains 
of  selfishness  are  cut  off,  the  cause  of  Christ 
will  easily  find  an  abundance  from  his  friends, 
and  will  leave  an  abundance  to  them  all.  When 
every  man  brings  his  all  to  Christ,  every  man 
will  be  able  to  take  away  with  him  again  an 
ample  supply  for  his  most  comfortable  subsist- 
ence. When  every  fresh  convert  to  Christ  be- 
comes a  willing  supporter  of  his  interest,  the 
accession  of  numbers  will  increase  its  supplies 
more  rapidly  than  its  wants. 

O,  hai)py  period  !  Holiness  to  the  Lord  shall 
be  written  not  only  on  common  things,  but  on 
those  which  men  have  been  accustomed  most 
jealously  to  withhold  from  God,  and  to  consider 
their  own.  Even  the  mines  of  the  earth  shall,  in 
a  sense,  be  ceded  to  Christ;  "the  God  of  the  whole 
earth  shall  he  be  called  ;  "  and  "every  one  shall 
20 


224       CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY     EXPLAINED. 

submit  themselves  unto  him  wilh  pieces  of  silver." 
i/e  shall  be   considered   the  wise   man,  not  who 
keeps  most,  but  gives  most  to  God  ;  and  the  hap- 
piness of  bestowing   shall    be   rated  above   the 
pleasure    of  acquiring.     Happy   period  !    when 
men,   instead  of  making   gold   their   god,  shall 
make  God   their  gold  ;  and  when   the  principles 
of  benevolence  shall  be  looked  on   as  a  science 
taught    from   heaven,   the   practice  of  which  is 
necessary  to  conduct  them  to  heaven.     The  liv- 
ing law  of  benevolence  written  in  the  heart  will 
operate  more  powerfully  than   all  the  sumptuary 
laws  which  were  ever   enacted  to   restrain  the 
extravagance  of  society.     The  cause  of  Christ 
will    be   viewed  as  the  only  safe  repository   of 
wealth  ;  as  the  great  interkst  in  which  the  af- 
fluent will  invest  their  abundance,  and  in  which 
the  poor  will  deposit  their  iniie,  assured  that  it 
will  thus  augment  to  a  treasure  exceeding  their 
powers  of  computation.     And  wealth,   the  per- 
nicious influence  of  which  some  of  the  wisest  of 
men  have  feared  so  much  that  they  have  prohib- 
ited the  use  of  it  by  law, — wealth,  the  great  em- 
broiler  and  corrupter  of  the  world,  will  be  em- 
ployed as  one  of  the  leading  means  of  restoring 
mankind    to    union    and    happiness ;    and    thus 
Christ  will  triumph   over  the  enemy  in  its  own 
home,  and  with  its  own  weapons. 


SECTION    II 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY   ENFORCED, 

And  why  should  the  dehghtful  period  to  which 
we  have  adverted,  wlien  tlie  gospel  theory  of 
Christian  henevolence  shall  be  realized,  be 
d«^e!ned  remote  ?  The  duties  of  that  period,  are 
the  duties  of  every  period  ;  and,  therefore,  of  the 
present.  The  obligations  which  will  be  binding 
then  are  binding  at  this  moment.  No  new  in- 
citements to  benevolence  will  be  furnished  from 
lieaven.  Tiie  great  considerations  with  which 
the  gospel  has  long  since  made  us  familiar,  are 
the  identical  motives  which  will  then  reign  and 
triumph.  Remote,  therefore,  as  that  era  may 
be  to  the  eye  of  the  indolent  and  the  selfish,  the 
consistent  believer  will  not  think  of  waiting  for 
its  arrival  before  he  begins  its  duties;  he  will 
feel  that  those  duties  are  all  present  and  urgent. 
May  a  review  of  (he  tender  and  weiglity  contjid- 
erations  by  which  they  are  enforced  fdl  him  with 
generous  and  grateful  purposes,  such  as  he  never 
felt  before  ;  and  may  God,   the  Holy  Spirit,  the 


226 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 


Spirit  of  love  and  grace,  condescend  to  breathe 
on  him  the  breath  of  a  new  life,  that  he  may 
henceforth  live  only  to  carry  those  purposes  into 
effect  to  the  glory  of  Christ  his  Redeemer! 

In  every  question  of  duty,  your  first  inquiry, 
Christian  reader,  will  naturally  respect  the  will 
of  God.  Before  listening  to  any  other  considera- 
tion, you  will  lift  up  an  imploring  eye,  and  say, 
"  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  "  Now, 
there  is  no  subject  on  which  God  has  more  clear- 
ly or  fully  revealed  his  will,  than  on  the  duty  of 
Christian  liberality. 

Think  o'l  the  right  ivhich  he  has  in  all  you  pos- 
sess. There  is  a  sense  in  which  no  man  can  be 
said  to  possess  an  exclusive  and  irresponsible 
right  in  property,  even  in  relation  to  his  fellow- 
creatures.  The  land  which  he  calls  his  oimi,  is 
still  guarded  and  watched  over  by  a  public  law, 
which  would  hold  him  responsible  for  its  de- 
struction. But  if  man  thus  claims  a  common  in- 
terest in  the  most  independent  description  of 
property,  how  much  more  does  God  hold  a  right 
in  your  possessions  ?  He  created  them  at  first  ; 
and  hence  he  has  an  original  and  supreme  prop- 
erty in  them.  The  world  is  his,  and  the  fulness 
thereof.  He  continues  them  in  existence  every 
moment ;  and  is  thus  every  moment  asserting 
afresh  his  original  right,  and  establishing  a  new 
title  to  dominion  over  them.  You  have  not 
brought  into  existence  a  single  mite  :  all  that 
you  have  done  is  to  collect  together  what  he  had 
made  ready  to  your  hands.  And  whence  did 
you   derive   the   skill   and  ability  to   do   this  ? 


CHRISTIAN    LIBFRAT.ITY    ENFORCED.         227 

**  Tliou  must  remember  the  Lord  thy  God,  for  it 
is  he  that  giveth  thee  power  to  get  wealth." 
Hence  he  cautions  you  against  the  sin  of  saying 
in  your  heart,  "  INIy  power,  and  the  might  of 
mine  own  hand,  hath  gotten  me  this  wealth," 
lest  you  should  fall  into  the  consequent  sin  of 
forgetting  that  he  is  still  the  supreme  Proprietor 
of  all  you  possess.  And  hence  too  he  solemnly 
reminds  you  that  your  enjoyments  are  his  gifts, 
only  in  the  sense  that  you  had  nothing  wherewith 
to  purchase  them,  and  not  in  the  sense  that  he 
has  given  away  his  right  in  them  :  that  they  are 
deposited  with  you  as  his  steward,  not  alienated 
from  him  and  vested  in  you  as  their  master ; 
that  both  they  and  you  are  his  to  do  with  as 
seemeth  good  in  his  sight. 

The  moment  you  lose  sight,  therefore,  of  his 
absolute  right  to  all  you  possess,  you  are  em- 
bezzling your  Lord's  property,  and  realizing  the 
character  of  the  unjust  steward.  You  are  pro- 
voking God  to  resume  his  own,  and  to  transfer  it 
to  more  faithful  hands.  Whereas  he  looks  to 
you  to  assert  his  dominion  in  the  ip.idstof  an  un- 
grateful and  rebellious  world.  The  purpose  for 
which  he  created  you  at  first,  and  for  which  he 
has  created  you  anew  in  Christ  Jesus,  is,  that 
you  might  show  forth  his  praise  before  a  world 
laboring  to  forget  him  ;  that  while  thci/  are  sul- 
lenly and  impiously  appropriating  every  thing  to 
themselves,  as  if  he  had  ceased  to  reign  and  even 
to  exist,  you  might  continually  consecrate  and 
offer  up  your  substance  before  their  eyes  as  an 
oblation  to  his  irlory,  and  thus  daily  vindicate  his 
20* 


228        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

claims,  as  the  fire  perpetually  burning  upon  the 
Jewish  altar  protested  daily  against  the  idolatry 
of  the  world,  and  proclaimed  the  one  living  and 
true  God.  And  will  you  not  do  this  1  Surely 
you  will  not  go  over  and  join  the  party  you  are 
intended  to  condemn.  Surely  you  will  not  be- 
tray your  Lord,  and  enable  his  enemies  to  tri- 
umph. Then  hasten  to  his  throne  and  acknowl- 
edge his  right.  Take  all  that  you  have  into  his 
presence,  and  dedicate  it  afresh  to  his  service. 
Inscribe  his  blessed  name  on  all  your  posses- 
sions. 

Think  of  the  great  goodness  you  enjoy  at  his 
hands.  His  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works  ;  but  how  many  of  those  mercies  has  he 
caused  to  meet  upon  your  head  ?  *'  He  daily 
loadeth  you  with  his  benefits  ;  "  and  will  you 
bear  them  all  away  from  his  presence  to  con- 
sume them  upon  yourself?  will  you  distribute 
none  of  the  precious  load  among  the  numerous 
applicants  he  has  placed  around  you  ]  "  He 
croivncth  thee  with  his  loving-kindness  and 
tender  mercies  ;  "  and,  wearing  the  crown  of  his 
royal  favor,  his  sovereign  love,  will  you  confine 
its  light  to  yourself?  will  you  not  proclaim  and 
honor  the  royalty  of  your  descent  by  humbly 
imitating  his  regal  munificence  and  grace  1  He 
has  placed  you  in  a  world  of  which  his  own  de- 
scription is,  that  it  is  full  of  his  goodness — the 
treasury  of  the  material  universe.  Men  have 
filled  it  with  sin;  but  he,  notwithstanding,  keeps 
it  filled  with  his  goodness.  The  overflowing 
fulness  of  the  ocean — the  amplitude  of  the  all- 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 


229 


encompassing  air — the  unconfined  plenitude  of 
tlie  li«;ht — all  conspire  to  attest  the   infinite   ex- 
uherance  of  his  bounty,  and   to   surcharge  your 
heart  with  corresponding  sentiments  of  goodness. 
To  be  selfish  in  such  a  world,  is  one  of  the  great- 
est triumphs  of  sin.     Covetousness  cannot  move 
in  it  without  being  rebuked  at  every  step.     Had 
your  life   been  spent  till  to-day  in   the   solitude 
and  darkness  of  a  dungeon,   and  had  you  now 
just  come  forth  into  the  open  theatre  of  the  vast 
creation,  and  awoke  for  the  first  time  to  the  full 
consciousness  of  all  this  infinite  goodness,  would 
not    your    heart    enlarge    and    expand  with    all 
warm    and    generous    emotions  1      Could    you 
speedily  indulge  in  selfishness  in  a  world  which 
you  found  supported  by  charity  ?  and  by  charity 
so    abundant    that    the    divine   Donor  seems  to 
have  aimed   to  make  the  sin  impossible  1     His 
rain  would    surely  baptize  you  with  the  spirit  of 
love  :    his    sun   would    melt  you  into  kindness. 
This  is  why  he  sheds  them   both   upon   the  just 
and  the  unjust.     And  will  you  not  aspire  to  be 
like  him  1     Will  you  not  become  the  servant  of 
his  love  to  his  creatures  ?     Can  you  live   day 
after  day  in  this  region  of  his  goodness — can  you 
have  the  ennobling  conception  of  his  goodness 
occupying  your  mind  year  after   year — can   you 
actually  call  yourself  a  son  of  this  good  and  gra- 
cious God,  an  heir  of  his  infinite  goodness,  and 
yet    retain    a   narrow,    selfish,    and    contracted 
mind  1     The  Lord  .Tesus  himself  calls  on  you  to 
be  merciful  even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is 
merciful. 


230        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

But  hitherto  we  have  been  standing  only  on 
the  threshold  of  the  temple  of  his  goodness. 
The  great  display,  the  "  unspeakable  g^i ft  "  re- 
mains within.  Your  misery  as  a  sinner  had  ex- 
cited his  compassion  ;  your  guilt  demanded  a 
sacrifice  ;  your  spiritual  destitution  had  nothing 
to  offer.  Approach  the  altar  of  sacrifice,  and 
behold  the  substitute  which  his  grace  provides. 
"God  50  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son."  "  Herein  is  love  !  "  The  uni- 
verse is  crowded  with  proofs  of  his  beneficence  ; 
but  here  is  a  proof  which  outweighs  them  all. 
How  much  he  loved  us  we  can  never  compute; 
we  have  no  line  with  which  to  fathom,  no  stand- 
ard with  which  to  compare  it;  but  he  so  loved  us 
that  he  sent  his  only  begotten  Son  to  be  the  pro- 
pitiation for  our  sins.  **  Herein  is  love  ! " 
"  Thanks  be  unto  God  for  his  unspeakable  gift." 

And  while  you  are  standing  in  the  presence  of 
this  matchless  display  of  love,  "  what  doth  the 
Lord  require  of  thee  ?  "  For  yourself,  he  in- 
vites you  to  accept  that  love  and  be  happy. 
And  in  relation  to  your  fellow-men,  he  only  re- 
quires that  the  stream  of  gratitude  which  his 
great  love  has  drawn  from  your  heart  should  be 
poured  into  that  channel  in  which  a  tide  of 
mercy  is  rolling  through  the  world,  and  bearing 
blessings  to  the  nations.  He  who  for  your  sake 
gave  his  Son,  asks  you  for  his  sake  to  give  of 
your  worldly  substance  to  the  cause  of  human 
happiness.  He  asks  you,  Christian,  to  cast  in 
your  mite  into  that  treasury  into  which  he  hath 
given  his  Son,  and  poured  all  the  blessings  of 
his  grace. 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 


231 


Nor  is  tliis  all  :  he  invites  you  to  advance 
from  the  altar  of  sacrifice  lo  the  holiest  of  all, 
within  the  veil  ; — in  pther  words,  he  hath  given 
you  Christ,  that  he  may  give  you  himself.  It 
was  by  wandering  from  him  that  man  first  be- 
came selfish  and  unhappy.  It  was  by  losing 
him  that  man  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
looking  for  happiness  in  the  creature.  And, 
because  no  single  kind  of  created  good  can  sat- 
isfy the  soul,  man  sought  to  accumulate  all 
kinds,  to  monopolize  every  thing — he  became 
selfish.  lie  is  dis[)osed  to  look  on  every  thing 
which  another  enjoys,  as  so  much  lost  to  him- 
self— as  so  much  takien  away  from  what  might 
otherwise  have  fallen  to  his  own  share;  and 
thus  he  is  selfish.  But  the  blessed  God,  by 
oflfering  to  bring  you  back  again  to  himself,  is 
offering  to  make  you  independent  of  all  inferior 
things  ;  to  put  you  in  possession  of  a  good  which 
shall  enable  you  to  look  down  with  disdain  on 
those  things  about  which  others  are  selfish  ;  to 
lead  you  to  an  infinite  good  :  a  good,  therefore, 
about  which  you  nerd  not  be  selfish  ;  for  were 
all  the  universe  to  share  and  enjoy  it  with  you, 
it  would  still  be  an  unexhausted  infinite  fulness 
of  ha|)i)iness. 

jN'ow,  lei  the  most  miserly  individual  come 
suddenly  into  the  possession  of  great  wealth,  he 
would  l)e  conscious,  at  least  for  a  short  lime,  of 
kind  and  generous  emotions.  What  then  should 
be  your  emotions  at  discovering  that,  through 
Christ,  you  have  found  a  God?  and  think,  ?r/(a^ 
a  God  he  is !     Enumerate  his  perfections  ;  call 


232        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

up  in  your  mind  his  exalted  attributes  ;  recollect 
some  of  the  displays  of  his  glory,  the  splendors  of 
his  throne,  the  amplitude  of  his  dominions,  the 
angelic  orders  of  his  kingdom,  the  richness  of 
his  gifts,  the  untouched  ocean  of  happiness  yet 
in  reserve  for  his  people — and  when  your  mind 
is  filled,  repeat  to  yourself  the  wondrous  truth, 
*'  This  God  is  my  God  forever  and  ever."  And, 
then,  think  what  it  is  to  have  him /or  your  God: 
it  is  to  have  a  real,  participating,  eternal  inter- 
est in  all  that  he  is  ;  to  have  him  for  your  "  all 
in  all;"  to  be  "filled  with  all  the  fullness  of 
God." 

Christian,  are  you  aware  of  your  wealth  ? 
have  you  yet  awoke  to  a  conscious  possession  of 
your  infinite  wealth  ?  and  is  it  possible  that  you 
can  still  cleave  to  the  poor  and  perishing  dross 
of  earth?  What,  shall  the  accession  of  infinite 
wealth  make  no  difierence  in  your  conduct  1 
Will  you  be  as  covetous  with  a  God  as  without  ? 
Do  you  not  feel,  rather,  that  you  could  give  away 
the  world  itself  as  a  trifle,  while  you  stand  and 
gaze  at  these  infinite  riches?  All  who  have 
truly  and  fully  returned  to  God  have  felt  thus. 
They  lost  their  selfishness.  They  gazed  on  this 
glory,  and  the  world  was  eclipsed  ;  they  thought 
of  it,  and  their  heart  became  too  large  for  earth; 
they  reached  after  it,  and  the  world  fell  from 
their  hands,  from  their  hearts.  Having  found 
the  true  source  of  happiness,  they  would  fain 
have  had  all  mankind  to  come  and  share  it  with 
them.  And  when  he  commanded  them  to  call 
the  world  to  come  to  him  and   be  happy,  they 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         233 

gave  away  every  thing,  even  life  itself,  in  llie  no- 
ble employ,  and  from  love  lo  liis  name. 

The   obligations!  which  liis  love  has  laid   you 
under  are   as   great  as   theirs.     But   how   much 
less,    it    is   to    be   feared,  have  you    felt    them. 
And  yet  ihey  felt  them  less  than  their  magnitude 
would   have  warranted.     For  when  their  eman- 
cipated spirits    had   ascended  from   the  scene  of 
martyrdom  to  heaven — when  they  there   awoke 
to  a  clear  |)erception  of  the  hell  tliey  had  escap- 
ed, and  the  glories   they  had    reached — even  he 
among  them  who  on  earth  had  been  most  alive 
to  a  sense  of  his  obligations,  would  feel  as  if  he 
then  felt  them  lor  the  first  time.     And  is  all  that 
weight  of  obligation  at  this  moment  resting  upon 
\joul     O,  where   are  the    numbers  which   shall 
compute  it  ?     What  is  the   period   long   enough 
to  recount  it  ?     "  What  can  you  render  unto  the 
Lord    lor   all    his    benefits'!"     What    sacrifices 
can   you   devise   costly  enough   to  express  your 
sense  of  them  ?     Christian,  could  you  have  sup- 
posed that  your   property  would  be  accepted  as 
one  of  those   sncrificcjs  ?     Had    he   not  conde- 
scended to  invite  the  oftering,  could  you   have 
imagined  that  any  amount  or  any  employment 
of  earthly  wealth,  would  have  been  accepted  by 
him?     It  is  one  of  the  lowest  expressions  of  love 
you  can  give;  yet  he  accepts  even  that.  Though 
there    is    no    proportion    whatever   between  the 
debt  you  owe  him,   and   all  the   wealth   of  the 
world,  he  yet  condescends  to  regard  the  small- 
est fraction  of  that  wealth  as  an  expression  of 
your  love  to  his  name.     Let  this,  then,  dignify 


234        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

wealth  in  your  eyes  :  value  it  henceforth  on  this 
account,  that  the  Lord  will  accept  it  at  your 
hands  as  an  offering  of  love.  Rejoice  that  you 
have  found  out  an  oblation  which  he  will  accept 
short  of  the  sacrifice  of  your  life.  Be  thankful, 
though  you  may  have  but  little  with  which  to  pre- 
sent him.  Practise  self-denial,  that  you  may  make 
that  little  more.  Seek  out  the  right  objects  for 
it,  the  objects  which  you  deem  to  be  the  dearest 
in  his  sight.  Give  to  them  all  you  can  ;  for, 
could  you  give  ten  thousand  times  more,  your 
obligations  would  go  on  increasing,  infinitely 
faster  than  your  gifts.  They  are  multiplying  on 
you,  even  while  you  are  in  the  act  of  giving. 
Give  under  a  grateful  sense  of  your  obligations  ; 
and  you  will  feel  that  giving  itself  is  a  benefit  ; 
that  it  is  an  act  in  which  you  receive  more  than 
you  render. 

But  to  increase  your  incentives  to  charity, 
your  heavenly  Father  has  laid  on  you  his  divine 
cominands.  He  charges  it  upon  you  that  you 
"do  good  unto  all  men;"  that  you  "put  on 
bowels  of  mercy  ;  "  that  you  "abound"  in  the 
grace  of  "liberality;"  that  you  "be  ready  to 
distribute,  willing  to  communicate."  And  in 
saying  this,  he  is  only  commanding  you  to  be 
happy,  and  to  communicate  happiness.  He  has 
often  represented  charity  in  his  word  as  equivalent 
with  relative  righteousness;  by  which  he  would  in- 
timate that  it  is  a  principal  part  of  such  righteous- 
ness. Where  the  second  table  of  the  law  is  abridg- 
ed, and  its  duties  summed  up  in  a  few  words,  char- 
ity is  not  only  never  omitted,  but  always  takes  the 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY   ENFORCED.  235 

lead.  In  all  general  descriptions  of  piety,  the  prac- 
tice ot'this  duty  is  specified  as  a  chief  element.  It 
is  declared  to  be  the  most  acceptable  expression 
of  our  love  to  God.  The  ciioicest  blessings, 
blessedness  itself,  the  essence  of  all  blessings, 
combined,  is  promised  to  it.  And  in  the  last 
great  day,  when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  sit  in 
judgment  on  the  world,  the  presence  or  absence 
of  Christian  benevolence  is  described  by  our 
Lord  as  determining  the  destinies  of  men.  Now 
these  are  only  so  many  methods  by  which  God 
would  render  the  expression  of  his  will  the  more 
emphatical,  and  urge  us  to  obey  it. 

In  consecrating  your  substance  to  him,  then, 
you  will  be  not  only  gratifying  your  sense  of  ob- 
ligation, you  will  feel  also  that  you  are  obeying 
the  will  of  your  God  on  a  subject  on  which  he  is 
most  earnest  and  express.  And  what  should 
furnish  a  stronger  impulse,  or  yield  you  higher 
delight,  than  this?  In  heaven,  his  will  is  the 
only  motive  to  obedience  which  is  necessary. 
And  will  you  not  rejoice  in  an  occasion  which 
joins  you  with  angels  in  "  doing  his  command- 
ments? "  Hasten,  then,  to  take  your  offering 
before  him  :  he  is  waiting  the  presentation  of 
your  gift.  The  hand  of  his  holy  law  is  laid  upon 
a  portion  of  your  property  ;  surely  you  will  not 
think  of  taking  any  of  that  portion  away  :  rath- 
er, add  to  it ;  let  him  see  that  your  love  is  not  so 
easily  satisfied  as  is  his  law  ;  that  your  gratitude 
goes  beyond  his  command  ;  that  were  it  possible 
for  his  law  to  he  repealed,  the  love  which  you 
bear  to  his  blessed  name  would  still  be  a  law 
21 


236        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

constantly  demanding  fresh  sacrifices  for  his 
altar. 

In  its  inculcations  of  beneficence,  the  Bible 
appeals  to  a  principle  of  loell-regulattd  self  inter- 
est. Instead  of  taking  it  for  granted  that  we 
should  be  enamored  of  duty  for  its  own  sake 
alone,  our  heavenly  Father  evinces  the  kindest 
consideration  of  our  fallen  condition,  by  accom- 
panying his  commands  with  appropriate  prom- 
ises and  blessings.  He  graciously  allures  us  to 
cultivate  the  tree  of  Christian  charity,  by  engag- 
ing that  all  its  fruits  shall  be  our  own.  "  He  who 
soweth  bountifully  shall  reap  also  bountifully." 
"  God  is  not  unrighteous,  to  forget  your  work 
and  labor  of  love." 

The  most  marked  interpositions  and  signal 
blessings  even  oi earthly  prosperity  have  attend- 
ed the  practice  of  Christian  liberality  in  every 
age.  Volumes  might  easily  be  filled  with  well- 
attested  instances  of  the  remarkable  manner  in 
which  God  has  honored  and  rewarded  those 
who  in  faith  and  obedience  have  devoted  their 
property  to  him.  Alas  !  that  the  Christian 
church  should  feel  so  little  interest  in  recording 
such  instances  to  the  glory  of  its  Lord  !  that  we 
should  be  so  slow  of  heart  to  believe  them  when 
they  are  recorded  ! — for,  what  do  they  prove, 
but  only  that  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  his 
promises  1 — and  that  his  people  should  give  him 
so  little  opportunity  of  illustrating  his  paternal 
character  by  trusting  their  temporal  affairs  more 
completely  to  his  hands  ! 

Spiritual  prosperity  is  inseparable  from  Chris- 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         237 

tinn  liberality.  For  "  God  lovetli  a  cheerful 
giver  ;  and  God  is  able  to  make  all  grace  abound 
towards  you  ;  that  ye,  always  having  all  suffi- 
ciency in  all  things,  may  abound  to  every  good 
work."  As  often  as  you  j)ractise  this  duty  in 
an  evangelical  spirit,  you  must  be  conscious  that 
the  best  part  of  your  sanctified  nature  is  called 
into  exercise  ;  your  heart  is  partially  discharged 
of  its  remaining  selfishness  ;  your  mind  is  braced 
more  for  Christian  activity  ;  your  sympathy  caus- 
es you  to  feel  afresh  your  alliance  with  man  ; 
your  beneficence  enables  you  to  rejoice  in  your 
union  of  spirit  with  Christ,  and  adds  a  new 
bond  to  that  power  of  affection  which  binds  you 
to  his  cause.  And  while  other  duties  bring  you 
near  to  Christ,  this  may  be  said  at  once  to  place 
you  by  his  side,  and  to  exalt  you  into  a  real  though 
humble  imitator  of  his  divine  benevolence. 

The  Christian,  moreover,  is  assured  that  the 
property  which  he  devotes  to  God  is  so  much 
treasure  laid  up  in  heaven,  so  much  seed  destin- 
ed to  fructify  into  a  harvest  of  eternal  enjoy- 
ment. Christian,  would  you  render  your  prop- 
erty sf'curc  ?  place  it  in  the  haiid  of  omnipotent 
Faithfulness.  Retain  it  in  your  possession, 
and  it  is  the  proper  emblem  of  uncertainty; 
but  df-vote  it  to  God,  and  from  that  moment  it 
is  stamped  with  his  immutability  ;  his  providence 
becomes  your  estate,  and  his  word  your  un- 
failing 'security.  Would  you  enjoi/  your  sub- 
stance ?  "Give  alms  of  such  things  as  you 
have  ;  and,  behold  all  things  are  clean  unto  you." 
The  oblation  of  your  first  fruits  unto  God  will 
cleanse,  and  sanctify,  and  impart  a  superior  relish 


238  CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

to  all  you  possess.  Like  the  first  Christians  you 
will  then  eat  your  meat  with  gladness  and  sin- 
gleness of  heart.  Would  you  increase  your 
property  ?  "  Honor  the  Lord  with  your  sub- 
stance— so  shall  thy  barns  be  filled  with  plenty, 
and  thy  presses  shall  burst  out  with  new  wine." 
"  For  this  thing  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  bless 
thee  in  all  thy  works,  and  in  all  that  th  >u 
puttest  thine  hand  unto."  Sow  your  substance, 
then,  as  seed  in  the  hand  of  Christ,  that  hand 
which  fed  the  multitude  with  a  morsel,  and 
which  multiplies  whatever  it  touches  with  its 
own  infinite  bounty.  Would  you  groio  in  grace  1 
in  love  and  likeness  to  Christ  T  Would  you  in- 
crease with  all  the  increase  of  God  ?  and  abound 
in  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  ?  "  The  liberal  soul 
shall  be  made  fat,  and  he  that  watereth  shall  be 
watered  also  himself."  Would  you  be  rich  for 
eternity  1  Would  you  cultivate  "  fruit  that  may 
abound  to  your  account"  in  the  invisible  world? 
Invest  your  property  in  the  cause  of  Christ ;  and 
he  engages  to  requite  you, — not,  indeed,  as  of 
debt ;  this  the  magnitude  of  the  requital  shows, 
but  of  his  own  exuberant  munificence, — he 
promises  to  repay  you  a  hundred-fold  in  the  pres- 
ent life,  and  in  the  world  to  come,  life  everlast- 
ing. As  much  of  your  property  as  you  have  al- 
ready devoted  to  him,  however  humbly  you  may 
think  of  it,  is  regarded  and  watched  over  by 
him  as  ''  a  good  foundation  laid  up  against  the 
time  to  come,  that  you  may  lay  hold  on  eternal 
life."  And  all  that  you  may  hereafter  cast  into 
his  treasury,  shall  certainly  precede  your  arrival 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.  239 

in  heaven,  and  there  be  converted  for  you  into 
incorruptible  treasures  "to  the  praise  of  the 
glory  of  his  grace." 

Is  the  welfare  of  your  posterity  an  object? 
The  parent  who  makes  this  an  excuse  for  rob- 
bing the  cause  of  God  of  its  due,  is  defrauding 
his  ofi'spring  of  God's  blessing,  entailing  on  them 
the  divine  displeasure,  leaving  them  heirs  of  the 
punishment  which  his  own  robbery  of  God  has 
deserved.  This  is  improvidence  of  the  most 
awful  kind.  But  let  your  regard  for  their  wants 
be  combined  with  a  proportionate  regard  for  the 
claims  of  benevolence,  and  you  will  be  demising 
to  your  offspring  that  rich,  that  inexhaustible 
inheritance,  the  inheritance  of  God's  blessing. 
Providence  will  look  on  them  as  its  own  wards  ; 
will  care  for  them  as  its  own  children. 

Do  you  desire  to  be  remembered  to  enjoy 
lasting  fame  ?  "  The  righteous  shall  be  had  in 
everlasting  remembrance."  "  The  memory  of 
the  just  is  blessed."  And  here,  by  the  righteous 
and  the  just  is  to  be  understood  especially  the 
bountiful.  His  memory  is  followed  with  com- 
mendations into  the  presence  of  God.  His  char- 
acter is  embalmed  in  its  own  piety.  His  name 
passes  with  commendation  through  the  lips  of 
God,  and  that  gives  it  immortality.  His  benev- 
olence resulted  from  the  grace  of  God  ;  and,  as 
such,  the  honor  of  God  is  concerned  in  making 
its  memory  inmiortal. 

Would  you  acquire  a  right  in  your  property? 
a  right  wliich  shall  justify  you  in  calling  it  your 
own  ?  Bv  withholding  it  from  God,  you  are 
21* 


240  CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

forfeiting  all  interest  in  it,  and  laying  yourself 
open  to  the  charge  of  embezzlement  and  fraud. 
But  by  devoting  it  to  his  service,  you  would  be 
acquiring  an  everlasting  interest  in  it;  for  you 
would  never  cease  to  enjoy  the  good  resulting 
from  its  divine  employment.  Hence  the  solu- 
tion of  the  epitaph  of  a  charitable  man,  "  What 
I  retained  I  have  lost,  what  I  gave  away  remains' 
with  me." 

By  the  practice  of  Christian  liberality,  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  credit  of  religion  are  pro- 
moted; — and  what  object  should  be  of  more 
precious  and  abiding  concern  to  the  believer 
than  this  ?  ''The  ministration  of  this  service 
not  only  supplieth  the  want  of  the  saints,  but  is 
abundant  also  by  many  thanksgivings  unto  God  ; 
while  by  the  experiment  of  this  ministration  they 
glorify  God  for  )'Our  professed  subjection  unta 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  for  your  liberal  distri- 
bution  unto  them  and  to  all  men."  The  new- 
born liberality  of  the  first  Christians  for  the  sup- 
port of  their  needy  brethren  threw  the  church 
into  a  holy  transport  of  delight.  It  was  bringing^ 
the  benevolent  power  of  Christianity  to  the  test  ; 
and,  as  a  masterpiece  of  human  mechanism, 
when  tried  and  found  to  exceed  expectation,  fills 
the  beholders  with  delight — the  result  of  "  the 
experiment  of  this  ministration  "  was  such  as  to 
call  forth  songs  of  exultation  to  the  glory  of 
God.  It  displayed  the  gospel  in  a  new  aspect, 
brought  to  light  its  benevolent  energies,  showed 
them  that  much  as  they  knew  of  its  virtues,  it 
contained  hidden   excellencies  which  it  would 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.  241 

rpqnire  time  and  circumslances  to  evolve  and 
display;  it  filled  the  church  with  a  chorus  of 
praise  to  the  glory  of  God. 

For  what  but  his  grace  could  produce  such 
liberality  7  It  was  supernatural;  the  apostle, 
therefore,  emphatically  denominates  it  the  grace 
of  God.  So  spontaneous  and  munificent  was  it, 
that  it  resembled  the  gifts  of  his  grace.  So 
purely  did  it  result  from  love  to  the  brethren, 
from  the  overflowings  of  tender  compassion  for 
their  wants,  that  it  was  truly  godlike.  So  un- 
paralleled and  unworldly  an  act  was  it,  that  the 
grace  of  God  alone  could  produce  it.  It  was 
grace  from  the  Fountain,  flowing  forth  in  streams 
of  liberality  through  the  channels  of  his  people. 
As  if  it  were  the  noblest  form  that  the  love  of 
God  could  take  in  his  people,  he  confers  on  it 
this  crowning  title,  tha  grace,  of  God.  And,  in- 
deed, it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  there  is 
scarcely  any  duty  so  purely  the  result  of  grace 
as  genuine  Christian  liberality  ;  that  the  practice 
of  it  on  any  thing  like  the  primitive  scale,  re- 
quires more  grace,  and  exercises  and  illustrates 
a  greater  number  of  the  principles  of  piety,  than 
almost  any  other  duty.  The  church  cannot 
witness  it  without  being  strongly  reminded  of 
her  hifjh  descent,  her  unearthly  character  ;  with- 
out falling  down  afresh  before  the  throne  of  Him 
whose  constraining  love  thus  triumphs  over  the 
selfishness  of  humanity.  The  world  cannot 
witness  it  witliout  feeling  its  own  selfishness  con- 
demned, without  secretly  bowing  to  the  divinity 
of  relisfion. 


242  CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

Christian,  would  you  enjoy  the  most  endear- 
ing evidences  of  your  heavenly  Father's  love  ? 
place  your  property  at  his  disposal,  and  daily 
trust  him  for  d.iiiy  provision.  If  his  character 
be  paternal,  your  character  should  be  filial  ;  and 
the  leading  feature  of  that  is  unlimited  depend- 
ence. Would  you  honor  him  in  his  church  1 
copy  the  example  of  "  the  churches  of  Macedo- 
nia "  in  their  abundant  liberahty  ;  and  you  will 
provoke  some  of  your  fellow-Christians  to  emu- 
lation, and  send  others  with  grateful  hearts  into 
the  presence  of  God,  and  assist  in  enlarging  the 
sphere  of  evangelical  labor,  and  raise  the  stand- 
ard of  Christian  piety,  and  cause  the  church  of 
Christ  to  resound  with  the  high  praises  of  his 
constraining  love.  And  would  you  glorify  God 
before  the  world  .''  Let  the  light  of  your  Chris- 
tian liberality  shine  before  men.  Not  only  prac- 
tise the  duty,  but  practise  it  on  such  a  scale  as 
shall  proclaim  to  them  the  existence  of  a  super- 
intending Providence,  and  convince  them  of 
your  reliance  on  its  care.  Devise  liberal  things 
for  the  cause  of  God,  and  you  will  thus  be  assert- 
ing the  quarrel  of  your  heavenly  Father  with  an 
unbelieving  world  ;  vindicating  and  attesting  the 
faithfulness  of  his  word,  the  watchfulness  of  his 
love,  and  the  benevolent  power  of  his  holy  gos- 
pel. Withdraw  your  trust  from  those  goods  in 
which  the  ungodly  confide,  resign  them  to  God, 
and  you  will  be  affording  him  an  occasion  for 
displaying  his  paternal  love.  He  charges  you  to 
be  careful  for  nothing,  that  he  may  evince  his 
carefulness  of  you. 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         243 

Of  the  poor  it  is  said,  that  he  who  oppress- 
eth  them  reproacheth  his  iMaker — cimrges  God 
witli  injustice  for  permitting  them  to  be  poor, 
and  for  devolving  their  maintenance  on  him  ; 
insults  God  in  the  person  of  the  poor,  by  refusing 
to  charge  himself  with  the  care  of  them,  though 
sent  to  him  witli  promises  direct  from  God. 
And  thus,  though  God  means  to  employ  the  rich 
as  his  agents  for  the  poor,  to  bind  them  to  each 
other  by  the  constant  interchange  of  gratitude 
and  benevolence,  and  to  illustrate  and  lionor  his 
providential  government,  the  selfishness  of  man 
frustrates  his  plans,  and  turns  his  honor  into  a 
reproach.  In  a  very  similar  manner,  he  has  de- 
volved the  Christian  interest  on  his  people,  and 
the  world  is  watching  their  conduct  in  relation 
to  it.  If  they  treat  it  as  a  burden,  God  will 
deem  himself  reproached  ;  but  let  them  meet  its 
demands,  and  enrich  it  with  their  liberality,  and 
the  power  of  his  gospel  and  the  wisdom  of  his 
arrangements  will  be  seen,  the  world  will  render 
him  the  homage  of  its  silent  admiration,  and  his 
church  will  triumph  in  every  place. 

The  great  gospel  argument  for  Christian  lib- 
erality is  the  divine  example  of  the  Redeemer's 
love.  "  Hereby  perceive  we  his  love," — as  if 
every  other  display  of  love  were  eclipsed  by  the 
effulgence  of  this  ;  as  if  all  possible  illustrations 
of  love  were  summed  up  in  this, — "  Hereby  per- 
ceive we  his  love,  because  he  laid  down  his  life 
for  us  ;  and  we  ou/ht  to  lay  down  our  lives  for 
the  brethren."  "  But  whoso  hath  this  world's 
good,  and  sectli  his  brother  have  need,  and  shut- 


244         CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

teth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from  him,  how 
dvvelleih  the  love  of  God  in  him  1  "  How  can 
the  love  of  Christ  inhabit  that  bosom,  which  is  a 
stranger  to  sympathy  for  his  people  ?  Ill  indeed 
does  he  pretend  readiness  to  die  for  Christ,  who 
will  not  give  a  little  money  towards  the  support 
of  his  cause  and  people. 

When  the  apostle  Paul  would  enjoin  the 
Philippians  to  "  look  not  every  man  on  his  own 
things,  but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of  oth- 
ers," he  points  them  to  "  the  mind  which  was 
also  in  Christ  Jesus,  who,  being  in  the  form  of 
God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with 
God,  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and 
took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was 
made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ;  and,  being  found 
in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  himself  and  be- 
came obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross."  He  does  not  content  himself  with  merely 
stating  the  fact  of  our  Lord's  condescension  and 
death ;  but,  as  if  he  loved  to  linger  on  the  sub- 
ject, he  traces  it  from  stage  to  stage  ;  as  if  the 
immensity  of  the  stoop  which  Christ  made  were 
too  great  to  be  comprehended  at  once,  he  divides 
it  into  parts,  and  follows  him  downwards  from 
point  to  point,  till  he  has  reached  the  lowest 
depth  of  his  humiliation.  As  if  he  felt  convinced 
that  the  amazing  spectacle,  if  duly  considered, 
could  not  fail  to  annihilate  selfishness  in  every 
other  heart,  as  it  had  in  his  own,  the  only  anxiety 
he  evinces  is  that  it  should  be  seen,  be  vividly 
presented  before  the  eye  of  the  mind.  Having 
carried  our  thoughts  up  to  that  infinite  height 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.  245 

■where  Christ  had  heeri  from  eternity  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Father,  he  shows  us  the  Son  of 
God  divesting  himself  of  his  glory  ;  and  then,  he 
detains  our  eye  in  a  j)roh)nged  gaze  on  his  de- 
scending course  ;  condescending  to  be  born  ; 
voluntarily  subjecting  himself  to  all  the  humbling 
conditions  of  our  nature;  taking  on  himself  the 
responsibilities  of  a  servant ;  still  liumbling  him- 
self, still  passing  from  one  depth  of  ignominy  to 
a  lower  still  ;  becoming  obedient  unto  death  ; 
and  that  death  the  most  humbling,  the  most  re- 
plete with  agony  and  shame,  the  death  of  the 
cross. 

Christian,  can  you  ever  contemplate  this  won- 
derful exhibition  without  renewed  emotions  of 
love?  without  feeling  afresh  that  you  are  not 
your  own  ?  And  say,  ought  such  grace  in 
Christ  to  be  requited  with  parsimony  in  his  fol- 
lowers? Ought  such  a  Master  to  be  served  by 
grudging  and  covetous  servants?  Ought  such  a 
Savior  to  have  to  complain  that  those  who  have 
been  redeemed,  and  who  know  they  have  been 
redeemed,  not  with  corruptible  things,  such  as 
silver  and  gold,  but  with  his  own  most  precious 
blood,  are  so  much  attached  to  that  corruptible 
wealth,  that  they  will  not  part  with  it,  though 
urged  by  the  claims  of  that  most  precious  blood  ? 
O,  shame  to  humanity  !  O,  reproach  to  the 
Christian  name  !  Be  concerned,  Christian,  to 
wipe  off  the  foul  stain.  Bring  forth  your  sub- 
stance, and  spread  it  before  him.  Were  you  to 
give  up  all  to  him,  would  it  be  vcrij  reprehensi- 
ble, or   z;cr?/ unaccountable,  considering  that  he 


246 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 


gave  up  all  for  you  1  At  least  economize  for 
Christ.  Retrench,  retrench  your  expenditure, 
that  you  may  be  able  to  increase  your  liberality. 
Deny,  deny  yourself  for  his  cause,  as  you  value 
consistency,  as  you  profess  to  be  a  follower  of 
him,  "  who  his  own  self  bare  our  sins  in  his  own 
body  on  the  tree." 

In  his  second  epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  we 
find  the  apostle  enforcing  the  practice  of  Chris- 
tian liberality  ;  and  various  and  cogent  are  the 
motives  which  he  adduces  to  excite  their  benev- 
olence. But  we  might  rest  assured  that  it  would 
not  be  long  before  he  introduced  the  motive  of 
our  Lord's  example.  The  love  of  Christ  was 
the  actuating  principle  of  his  own  conduct ;  it 
influenced  him  more  than  all  other  motives  com- 
bined. If  ever  his  ardor  in  the  path  of  duty 
flagged  for  a  moment,  he  glanced  at  the  cross, 
thought  of  the  great  love  wherewith  Christ  had 
loved  him,  and  instantly  girded  on  his  zeal 
afresh.  In  addressing  others,  therefore,  he  nev- 
er failed  to  introduce  this  motive  ;  he  relied  on 
it  as  his  main  sti'ength  ;  he  brought  it  to  bear 
upon  them  in  all  its  subduing  and  constraining 
force. 

And  how  tender,  how  pointed,  how  melting 
the  appeal  which  he  makes.  '*  Ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  though  he 
was  rich,  yet  for  your  sake  he  became  poor,  that 
ye  through  his  poverty  might  be  rich."  You 
know  the  height  from  which  he  stooped.  You 
know  the  depth  of  humiliation  to  which  he  de- 
scended ;  that  he  found  no  resting-place  between 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         247 

his  tlirone  and  the  cross.  You  know  for  whom 
he  did  this  ;  for  his  enemies,  his  destroyers. 
You  know  that  lie  did  this  vohiiitarily  ;  tlir.t  he 
was  under  no  necessary  obhgatioii  to  endure  it; 
that  his  own  love  was  the  only  obligation  ;  that 
he  welcomed  each  indignity,  invited  each  pang, 
made  them  a  part  of  his  plan  of  condescension. 
You  know  how  earnestly  he  prosecuted  the  work 
of  our  salvation  ;  that  in  every  step  he  took  be 
was  only  gratifying  the  compassionate  yearnings 
of  his  own  heart ;  that  he  assumed  lite  for  the 
express  purpose  of  laying  it  down  ;  that  though 
he  saw  as  from  a  height  the  whole  array  of  duty 
and  trial  which  awaited  him,  the  only  emotions 
which  he  evinced  at  the  sight  were  a  self-consum- 
ing ardor  to  reach  the  cross  which  stood  at  the 
end  of  his  path — a  holy  impatience  to  be  baptized 
with  that  baptism  of  blood.  You  know  the  ob- 
ject for  which  he  did  it  all — for  your  salvation  ; 
that  he  uiight  pour  his  fulness  into  your  empti- 
ness, his  riches  into  your  poverty  ;  that  he  might 
raise  you  to  heaven,  and  share  with  you  the  glo- 
ries of  his  own  throne. 

You  know  this  ;  not,  indeed,  in  the  sense  of 
comprehending  it  ;  that  is  impossible,  for  it  is  a 
love  which  passeth  such  knowledge.  But  you 
know  it  by  report;  you  have  heard  of  it.  It  is 
the  theme  of  the  universe.  Heaven  resounds 
with  it  ;  the  church  on  earth  is  full  of  it  ;  the 
eternal  Father  commands  it  to  be  published 
throughout  the  world.  And  so  amazing  is  it, 
the  bare  announcement  of  it  should  be  sulHcient 
to  transform  selfishness  itself  into  disinterested 


248        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

love.  But  you  know  it  experimentally.  You 
can  look  back  on  a  time  when  you  were  in  a  state 
of  alienation  from  God  bordering  on  perdition  : 
you  have  been  plucked  as  a  brand  from  the  burn- 
ing ;  and  now  you  are  looking  forwards  to  eter- 
nal life  with  Christ  in  heaven  ;  and  you  know 
that  you  owe  your  deliverance,  and  all  your 
hopes,  to  the  grace  of  Christ.  You  know 
what  he  endured  for  your  redemption,  that  he 
loved  you,  **  and  gave  himself  for  you;"  and 
will  you  withhold  from  him  any  thing  in  your 
possession  1  Can  you  believe  that  he  died  for 
you?  that,  in  dying,  he  wore  your  name  upon 
his  breast  ?  that  his  heart  cherished  the  thought 
of  your  happiness  ?  that  he  made  himself  poor 
to  enrich  ijou  1  and  will  you  not  freely  contribute 
of  your  worldly  substance  to  diffuse  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  grace  ? 

Did  he  employ  his  heavenly  powers  solely  for 
your  salvation,  lay  himself  out  for  your  haj)pi- 
ness?  Yes,  saith  he,  "  For  their  sakes  I  sanc- 
tify myself  I  set  myself  apart,  I  appropriate  all 
I  have  and  am  to  the  work  of  their  salvation." 
And  he  did  so.  When  did  he  ever  go  about  but 
to  do  good  ?  When  did  he  ever  open  his  hand 
but  to  bless  ?  or  weep,  but  in  sympathy  with 
human  woe?  What  object  did  he  ever  pursue 
but  that  of  benevolence?  imparting  life  to  the 
dying,  pardon  to  the  guilty,  purity  to  the  deprav- 
ed, blessings  to  all  around  him.  "  Let  the  same 
mind  be  in  you  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus." 
He  was  the  author  of  riches,  and  the  heir  of  all 
things ;  but  all  he  possessed  he  gave  for  your  sal- 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         249 

vation,  and  all  tliat  you  possess  you  should  employ 
for  his  glory.  You  enjoy  a  portion  of  this  world's 
goods;  consider  the  use  which /<e  would  have 
made  of  it,  and  copy  his  divine  example. 

Did  he  not  only  employ  his  heavenly  powers, 
but  actually  deny  liiniself,  suffer,  die  for  your 
happiness?  He  pleased  not  himself.  He  en- 
dured the  cross,  despising  the  shame.  Hepour- 
■ed  out  his  soul  unto  death.  Himself  he  would 
not  save.  He  would  not  come  down  from  the 
cross.  O!  how  did  he  for  a  season  annihilate 
himself!  How  did  he  take  our  place,  take  our 
curse,  and  endure  it  all  !  That?r«5  compassion. 
That  z^^ffs- looking  on  the  things  of  others.  That 
was  benevolence, — disinterested,  unparalleled, 
matchless  benevolence.  Let  this  mind  be  in 
you.  Never  can  you  hope  to  equal  it,  for  it  is 
infinite — the  grace  of  a  God  :  but  so  much  the 
greater  your  obligation  to  approach  it  as  nearly 
as  you   can. 

Christian,  ijou  know  his  grace, — you  feel  it. 
How  njucli  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  !  Do  you 
ever  attempt  to  compute  the  mighty  sum  1  En- 
deavor to  realize  the  idea  ;  and  if  then  you  feel 
any  reluctance  to  consecrate  your  substance  to 
him,  it  can  only  be  on  the  ground  of  its  utter  in- 
significance. But  he  asks  for  it  as  an  expression 
of  your  love — yes,  he  asks  for  it.  He  comes  to 
you  every  time  an  appeal  is  made  to  your  Chris- 
tian liberality,  and,  as  he  turns  on  you  a  look  of 
benifrnity  and  love,  he  inquires,  "  Lovest  thou 
me  ?  "  And  as  he  points  to  that  portion  of  your 
Droperty  which  ought  to  be  devoted  to  his  cause, 


250      Christian  liberality  enforced. 

he  asks  you  again,  "  Lovest  thou  me  more  than 
this  ?"  If  so,  devote  it  !o  my  cause,  consecrate 
it  to  my  service.  And  he  saiih  unto  you  the 
third  time,  "  Lovest  thou  me  ?  "  If  so,  "  feed 
my  lambs,  feed  my  sheep ;  "  support  my  poor ; 
aid  my  interest  in  the  world  ;  encourage  every 
effort  made  to  bring  home  my  wandering  sheep  ; 
think  of  the  millions  of  them  that  are  perishing, 
millions  for  whom  I  died  ;  shall  my  love  be  de- 
frauded of  them  ?  shall  I  not  behold  in  them  the 
travail  of  my  soul  and  be  satisfied  ?  By  the 
love  you  bear  to  me,  and  by  the  intiuitely  great- 
er love  I  bear  to  you,  imitate  my  love  ;  and  you 
know  the  extent  of  that,  "  you  know  the  grace 
of  your  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  he  was 
rich,  for  your  sake  he  became  poor,  that  you 
through  his  poverty  might  be  rich." 

O,  Christian,  study  your  obligations  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross.  If  you  would  imbibe  the  dis- 
interested and  self-sacrificing  benevolence  of 
your  blessed  Lord,  take  your  station  daily  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross.  Never  till  you  do  this, 
will  you  feel  the  claims  which  he  has  upon  you. 
But  when  you  there  see  the  great  love  where- 
with he  hath  loved  you,  we  will  defy  you  to  be 
covetous,  inactive,  selfish  in  his  cause.  You 
cannot  fail  to  love  him  ;  that  love  cannot  fail  to 
constrain  you  ;  and,  constrained  by  that,  you 
will  be  turned  into  a  pains-taking,  self-denying, 
devoted  servant  of  Christ ;  to  whom  he  will  say, 
daily,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;  " 
till  the  day  when  he  will  sum  up  all  his  grace 
by  adding,  "  Enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.        251 

If  you  are  truly  a  Christian,  you  have  felt  that 
you  are  not  your  own,  that  you  are  bouglit  with 
a  price  :  in  other  words,  you  see  so  clearly,  and 
feel  so  strongly,  that  you  owe  yourself  to  Christ, 
that  you  have  gone  to  his  feet  and  implored  his  ac- 
ceptance of  your  soul.  But  the  dedication  of  your- 
self includes  the  surrender  of  your  property. 

It  is  related  in  Roman  history,  that  wiien  the 
people  of  CoUatia  stipulated  about  their  surren- 
der to  the  authority  and  protection  of  Rome,  the 
question  asked  was,  "  Do  you  deliver  up  your- 
selves, the  Collatine  people,  your  city,  your 
fields,  your  water,  your  bounds,  your  temples, 
your  utensils,  all  things  that  are  yours,  both  hu- 
man and  divine,  into  the  hands  of  the  people  of 
Rome?"  And  on  their  re])lying,  "  We  deliver 
up  all," — they  were  received.  The  voluntary 
surrender  which  you,  Christian,  have  made  to 
Christ,  though  not  so  detailed  and  specific  as 
this  formula,  is  equally  comprehensive.  And 
do  you  not  account  .those  your  best  moments 
when  you  feel  constrained  to  lament  that  your 
surrender  comprehends  no  more?  Can  you  re- 
call to  mind  the  way  in  which  he  has  redeemed 
you,  the  misery  from  which  he  has  snatched  you, 
and  the  blessedness  to  which  he  is  conducting 
you,  without  feeling  that  he  has  bought  you  a 
thousand  times  over  ?  that  you  are  his  by  the 
tenderest,  weightiest  obligations  ?  And  when 
you  feel  tlius,  how  utterly  impossible  would  it  be 
for  you  at  such  a  moment  to  stipulate  for  an  ex- 
ception in  favor  of  your  property  ! — to  harbor  a 
mental  reservation  in  favor  of  that ! 
22* 


252         CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

Can  you  think  of  the  blessedness  attending- 
the  act  itself  of  tlie  dedication  to  God, — that  you 
are  wedding  yourself  to  infinite  riches,  uniting 
yourself  to  infinite  beauty,  allying  yourself  to 
infinite  excellence  ;  giving  yourself  to  God,  and 
receiving  God  in  return,  so  that  henceforth  all 
his  infinite  resources,  his  providence,  his  Son, 
his  S{3irit,  his  heaven,  he  Himself,  all  become 
yours,  to  the  utmost  degree  in  which  you  can 
enjoy  them ; — can  you  think  of  this  without  often 
repealing  the  act  ?  without  feeling  that  had  you 
all  the  excellencies  of  a  myriad  of  angels,  his 
love  would  deserve  the  eternal  devotion  of  the 
whole?  Realize  to  your  own  mind  the  nature 
of  Christian  dedication,  and  the  claims  of  Him 
who  calls  for  it,  and,  so  far  from  giving  penuri- 
ously  to  his  cause,  you  will  take  every  increase 
of  your  substance  into  his  presence,  and  devote 
it  to  his  praise  ;  you  will  regard  every  appeal 
which  is  made  to  your  Christian  benevolence  as 
an  appeal  to  that  solemn  treaty  which  made  you 
his,  and  you  will  honor  it  accordingly  ;  you  will 
deeply  feel  the  penury  of  all  riches  as  an  ex- 
pression of  your  love  to  him  ;  Lebcinon  would 
not  be  sufficient  to  burn,  or  the  beasts  thereof  an 
offering  large  enough  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
your  love. 

Think,  moreover,  oi  thehigh  design  for  which 
God  condescends  to  accept  your  surrender.  Not 
that  you  may  live  to  yourself,  but  entirely  to 
him.  Having  disposed  and  enabled  you  to  give 
yourself  to  him,  he  would  then  baptize  you  in  the 
element  of  divine  love,  and  give  you  to  the  tvorld. 


CHRISTIAN    LIBKRALITY     ENFORCED.         253 

"  God  so  loved  tlie  world  lliat  he  irave  his  only 
begotten  Son  "  to  redeem  it.  The  object,  in- 
deed, for  whicii  he  was  given  was,  like  liini!«eif, 
infinite;  an  object  which  never  can  be  shared, 
and  which  never  need  be  repeated.  But  tlie  of- 
fice to  which  God  designates  every  man,  from 
the  moment  of  his  conversion,  is  meant  to  be  a 
new  donation  to  the  world.  The  relation  in 
which  he  places  him  to  the  world  is  meant  to  be  a 
fresh  expression  of  the  same  infinite  love  wl)ich 
prompted  him  to  give  Christ ;  it  is  to  be  viewed 
as  nothing  less  than  a  symbolical  representation 
to  the  world  of  that  unspeakable  gift.  He  is 
not  that  gift,  but  is  sent  to  bear  witness  of  that 
gift ;  not  merely  to  announce  it  with  his  lips, 
but  to  describe  and  commemorate  its  fulness 
and  freeness  in  its  own  character.  Like  his 
blessed  Lord,  he  is  to  look  upon  himself  as  ded- 
icated to  the  cause  of  human  happiness,  dedica- 
ted from  eternity. 

Christian,  you  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ, — might  the  world  infer  the  ex- 
istence of  his  grace  from  your  conduct?  Is 
your  benevolence  worthy  of  him,  who,  "though 
he  was  rich,  for  your  sake  became  poor  ?  "  He 
turned  himself  into  a  fountain  of  grace  and  love, 
and  called  you  to  be  a  Christian,  that  you  might 
be  a  consecrated  channel  of  his  grace  to  others. 
He  requires  all  the  l)enevolenl  agency  of  heaven 
and  earth  to  be  put  into  motion,  in  order  to  do 
justice  to  the  purposes  of  his  love  ;  and  he  has 
called  you  into  his  service  in  order  to  increase 
that  agency.  Surely,  you  are  not,  by  the  love 
of  money,  frustrating  that   design.     As  well  for 


254         CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 

the  perishing  world  had  he  never  died  for  its 
salvation,  if  his  appointed  and  consecrated  agents 
neglect  to  make  him  known.  Surely,  you  are 
not,  hy  living  only  to  yourself,  hy  wasting  your 
property  on  yourself  as  fast  as  he  gives  it  to  you, 
leaving  the  woild  to  infer,  that  his  character  bore 
any  resemblance  to  yours  ;  and  leaving  it,  be- 
sides, to  perish  under  your  eye,  because  an  ef- 
fort to  save  it  would  incur  expense.  You  have 
not,  you  cannot,  have  so  learned  Christ.  But 
what  then  are  you  giving  ?  more  than  the  hea- 
then to  his  idol-god  1  more  than  the  votary  of  a 
corrupted  Christianity  to  the  object  of  his  super- 
stitious regard  ?  or  more  than  the  irreligious 
worldling  devotes  to  pleasure  and  self-indulg- 
ence 1     "  What  do  ye  more  than  others?  " 

Consider  also  the  happy  injiuence  which  a 
spirit  of  Christian  liberality  would  have  on  your 
own  enjoyment.  By  taking  from  the  flesh  the 
means  of  self-indulgence,  it  would  be  exalting 
the  spirit.  It  would  be  enlarging  your  heart, 
and  ennobling  your  character,  and  identifying 
you  with  all  things  good,  and  glorious,  and  hap- 
py in  the  universe.  Much  as  it  might  benefit 
the  cause  of  God,  it  would  still  more  minister  to 
the  welfare  and  happiness  of  your  own  soul. 

Devise  liberal  things,  and  by  liberal  things  you 
shall  stand.  Taste  the  luxury  of  doing  good, 
and  you  will  regret  that  you  began  so  late.  Se- 
lect for  imitation  the  loftiest  examples — the  few 
distinguished  names  whose  praise  is  in  all  the 
churehes — and  you  will  be  conscious  of  a  delight 
which  an  angel  might  be  grateful  to  share.  God 
himsejf  is  the  happiest  being,  because  he  is  the 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED. 


255 


most  benevolent;  and  you  would  then  in  tlie 
most  exMJted  sense  be  liolding  fellowshij)  with 
biin  ;  you  would  understand  experimentally  the 
saying  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  "  it  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  ;  "  you  would 
make  all  the  beneficence  of  the  world  your  own, 
by  the  complacency  with  which  you  would  he- 
hold  it  exercised  and  enjoyed. 

But  the  motives  to  Christian  charity  are  end- 
less. The  state  of  the  world  requires  it.  How 
vast  its  multitudes;  how  urgent  and  awful  their 
condition  ;  liow  brief  the  hour  for  benefiting 
them  ;  how  mighty  the  interest  pending  on  that 
short  liour!  Look  where  you  will  your  eye  will 
encounter  signals  to  be  active  ;  myriads  of  ob- 
jects, in  imploring  or  commanding  attitudes, 
urging  you  to  come  to  the  iielp  of  the  Lord,  to 
the  help  of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty. 

The  chiireh  e alls  for  it.  It  has  many  an  agent 
of  mercy  to  send  forth,  if  you  will  but  aid  to  liir- 
nish  the  means.  It  has  many  a  generous  pur- 
pose in  its  heart,  many  a  long-cherished  and 
magnanimous  project  ready  to  leap  to  its  lips,  if 
your  liberality  should  encourage  it  to  speak.  It 
burns  with  a  holy  impatience  to  reap  the  vast 
h;irvest  of  the  heathen  world,  which  Providence 
seems  to  have  prepared  and  to  be  keeping  for  its 
sickle  : — will  you  not  aid  to  send  f)rth  more  la- 
borers into  the  harvest  ?  It  has  been  slumbering 
at  its  post  for  ages;  it  is  now  awaking  to  an 
alarmed  consciousness  of  its  neglected  re>|)onsi- 
bilities,  and,  as  it  counts  up  its  long  arrears  of 
duty,  it  hastens  to  atone   for  the  past  by  instilut- 


256        CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED: 

ing  one  society,  and  adopting  one  remedy,  after 
another,  and  sending  its  agents  to  plead  for  help 
from  its  members,  in  the  name  of  Christ;— and 
will  you  not  help  it  in  its  straits  ?  A  proportion 
of  its  guilt  is  lymg  upon  you; — will  you  not  aid 
it  to  retrieve  the  past  T  and  assist  it  to  recover 
and  present  to  the  world  its  primitive  aspect  of 
love  and  zeal  1 

The  Christians  of  apostolic  times  call  for  it. 
Benevolence  was  their  characteristic.  A  selfish 
Christian  was  a  contradiction  of  which  they  were 
happily  ignorant.  For  such  an  anomaly  their 
church  had  provided  no  place ;  they  would  have 
cast  him  forth  from  among  them,  as  a  disgrace. 
They  had  the  grand  secret  of  giving  up  all  for 
Christ,  and  yet  accounting  themselves  rich  ;  the 
art  of  iak'mgjoyfuUi/  the  spoiling  of  their  goods; 
the  principle  of  finding  their  happiness  in  living 
to  God,  in  spending  and  being  spent  in  his  ser- 
vice. It  would  have  been  difficult  to  convince 
them  that  they  were  in  danger  of  giving  too  freely 
to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  that  they  were  denying 
themselves  in  giving  so  much  to  him  instead  of 
consuming  it  on  their  own  lusts,  when  they  felt 
they  were  gratifying  themselves  by  so  doing.  It 
would  have  been  difficult  to  convince  them  that 
their  interest  was  distinct  from  the  interest  of 
Christ ;  or  that  they  had  any  occasion  for  tears 
while  his  kingdom  was  prospering,  or  any  reason 
to  exult  in  their  own  secular  prosperity  if  it  did 
not  subserve  the  advancement  of  his  cause. 
They  could  not  be  depressed  ;  for  their  Lord 
had  arisen,  and  was  reigning  on  the  throne  of 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         257 

heaven.  At  that  thought,  they  not  only  rejoiced 
themselves,  tliey  called  on  the  universe  to  re- 
joice with  them  ;  for  they  saw,  in  his  exaltation, 
the  pledge  of  the  world's  salvation,  and  of  an 
eternity  of  happiness  with  him  in  heaven. 
What,  to  them,  were  a  few  intervenin<^  days  of 
trial  and  pain  ?  They  thought  not  of  such 
things!  VVhat,  to  them,  was  a  question  of  prop- 
erty, whether  much  or  little?  Not  worth  the 
price  of  a  thought!  If  they  had  it,  they  gave  it 
to  that  service  to  which  they  had  given  them- 
selves. If  they  had  it  not,  they  did  not  for  a 
moment  speak  of  it  as  a  want,  or  think  of  asking 
the  cause  of  the  world's  salvation  to  stand  still, 
while  they  were  engacred  in  a  scramble  with  the 
world  to  obtain  it.  The  vision  of  heaven  was  in 
their  eye  ;  and,  until  they  reached  it,  their  Lord 
had  engaged  to  provide  for  all  their  wants,  and 
had  engaged  to  do  this  solely  that  they  might 
give  their  undivided  attention  to  his  service.  Of 
doubts  and  fears  about  their  personal  interest  in 
his  love  they  appear  to  have  known  nothing  ; 
iliat  is  a  disease  peculiar  to  the  morbid  and  self- 
ish piety  of  modern  days.  The  element  of  ac- 
tivity and  benevolence  in  which  they  lived,  se- 
cured them  against  such  a  malady,  and  produced 
a  race  of  Christians,  vigorous,  holy,  and  happy. 
And  is  it  from  such,  Christian,  that  yon  pro- 
fess to  have  descended  ?  do  you  claim  relation- 
ship to  them  ?  profess  to  represent  them?  Bend- 
ing from  their  seats  of  blessedness  above,  thf;y 
urge,  they  beseech  you,  to  east  oil"  the  worldly 
spirit  in  which  you  have  hitherto  indulged,  anii 


258         CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED, 

to  take  up  their  fallen  mantle.  They  entreat 
you  no  longer  to  disgrace  their  name,  nor  the  in- 
finitely dearer  name  of  Christ ;  to  renounce  it  at 
once,  as  the  greatest  homage  you  can  pay  to  it, 
or  else  to  follow  them  as  far  as  they  followed 
Christ.  They  all  expect  this  from  you ;  they 
will  demand  it  at  your  hands  when  you  meet 
them  at  the  bar  of  God. 

The  'promises  and  prospects  of  prophecy  invite 
it.  iMuse  on  the  prophetic  paintings  of  the  lat- 
ter day  glory,  that  day  without  a  cloud; — the 
enemies  of  man  subdued,  the  disorders  of  the 
world  hushed,  all  its  great  miseries  passed  away. 
Christ  on  his  throne  ;  in  the  midstof  a  redeemed, 
sanctified,  happy  creation.  All  things  sacred  to 
his  name  ;  all  tongues  reheart^ing  for  the  last 
great  chorus  of  the  universe  ;  all  hearts  united 
in  holy  love,  and  in  that  love  offering  themselves 
up  as  one  everlasting  sacrifice  ascending  before 
him  in  its  own  llames  ;  new  heavens,  and  a  new 
earth,  wherein  dweileth  righteousness.  And  is 
it  possible  that  your  agency  can  contribute  to 
accelerate  that  blessed  period?  These  glimpses 
of  its  glory  are  afforded  you,  expressly  to  engage 
your  agency  in  its  behalf.  Not  only  is  your  in- 
strumentality desirable — there  is  a  sense  in  which 
it  is  indispensable.  All  things  are  waiting  for  it. 
All  things  are  ready  but  the  church  of  Christ; 
and  until  its  prayers,  its  wealth,  all  its  energies 
and  resources,  are  laid  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  all 
things  must  continue  to  wait. 

O,  then,  by  the  mercies  of  God  ;  by  the  rich- 
es of  his  goodness  towards  you  in  nature,  provi- 


CFIKISTIAN     LIBERALITY     ENFORCED. 


259 


dence  and  grace  ;  by  the  sacrednessof  tlie  com- 
mands which  he  has  laid  upon  yon  ;  by  a  legiti- 
mate regard  for  your  own  well-being;  and  by 
the  credit  of  that  religion  whose  honor  should  be 
dearer  lo  you  than  life, — we  beseech  you,  Chris- 
tian, to  dedicate  your  property  to  God.  By  the 
love  of  Christ  ;  by  the  compassion  which  brought 
him  from  the  bosom  of  the  Father;  by  his  pain- 
ful self-denial  and  deep  humiliation  ;  by  his 
obedience  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross  ;  O,  by  that  mystery  of  love  which  led  him 
to  become  poor  that  he  might  make  you  eternally 
rich — ask  yourself,  while  standing  at  the  cross, 
**  How  much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord  1  "  and 
give  accordingly.  By  the  tender  and  melting 
considerations  which  led  you  at  first  to  surren- 
der yourself  to  his  claims  ;  by  the  benevolent  pur- 
poses which  God  had  in  view  in  calling  you  to 
a  knowledge  of  himself;  and  by  the  deep  and 
holy  pleasure  to  be  found  in  imitating  his  divine 
beneficence, — look  on  your  property  as  the 
Lord's,  and  give  it  freely  to  his  glory.  By  the 
cries  of  the  world  perishing  in  ignorance  of 
Christ;  by  the  earnest  entreaties  of  the  church 
yearning  to  save  it  from  destruction,  but  wanting 
your  aid;  as  you  profess  to  admire  the  unpar- 
aelled  benevolence  of  the  first  Christians,  and 
to  be  actuated  by  the  same  principles  ;  and  as 
you  hope  to  behold  the  consummation  of  your 
Savior's  glory  in  the  salvation  of  the  world — we 
entreat,  we  adjure  you  to  look  on  your  property 
as  given  you  by  God  to  be  employed  in  his  ser- 
vice, and  from  this  day  to  employ  it  accordingly. 
23 


260         CHRISTIAN     LIBERALITY     ENFORCED. 

He  who  gave  his  only-begotten  Son  for  your  sal- 
vation,— he  who  redeemed  you  from  the  curse  of 
the  law,  by  being  made  a  curse  for  you, — he 
who  has  breathed  into  you  the  breath  of  a  new 
life,  and  is  preparing  you  for  heaven, — the  Fa- 
ther, the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  unite  in  urg- 
ing you  to  bring  forth  your  property,  and  to  lay 
it  upon  the  altar  of  Christian  sacrifice. 

And  now,  Christian,  what  shall  be  ihe  practi- 
cal effect  of  the  truths  which  have  been  made  to 
pass  before  you  1  Allow  me,  in  conclusion,'  to 
suggest  what  it  ought  to  be  ;  and  may  God  the 
Holy  Spirit  give  you  grace  to  carry  it  into  prac- 
tice. 

Have  you,  while  reading  the  preceding  pages, 
felt  a  single  emotion  of  benevolence  warm  and 
expand  your  heart  ?  Instantly  gratify  it.  Let 
it  not  pass  from  you  in  an  empty  wish  ;  but  im- 
mediately bring  forth  something  to  be  appropri- 
ated to  his  glory. 

Is  your  benevolence  destitute  of  plan  ?  Then, 
unless  you  can  gainsay  what  we  have  advanced 
on  the  necessity  of  system,  lose  no  time  in  devising 
one. 

Are  you  a  stranger  to  self-denial  in  the  cause 
of  charity  1  Then,  remember  that  benevolence, 
with  you,  has  yet  to  be  begun  j  for,  on  Chris- 
tian principles,  there  is  no  benevolence  without 
self-denial. 

Here,  then,  is  an  object  to  take  you  at  once  to 
the  throne  of  grace.  O,  Christian,  let  it  lead 
you  to  pour  out  your  soul  in  prayer  before  God. 
Confess  that  selfishness  by  which  you  have  hith- 


CHRISTIAN    LIBERALITY    ENFORCED.         201 

erto  absorbed  so  much  of  that  property  in  worldly 
indulgencies,  which  ought  to  have  been  spent  in 
his  service.  Ask  him  for  the  grace  of  self-deni- 
al ;  that  your  offerings  may  henceforth  bear  a 
proportion  to  the  magnitude  of  his  claims.  Be- 
seech him  to  pour  out  his  Holy  Spirit  upon  you 
and  upon  all  his  people,  as  a  Spirit  of  Christian 
liberality,  that  "  Holiness  to  the  Lord  "  may  soon 
be  inscribed  on  all  the  property  of  his  church. 
*'  He  who  soweth  sparingly  shall  reap  also  spar- 
ingly ;  and  he  who  soweth  bountifully  shall  reap 
also  bountifully.  And  God  lovcth  a  cheerful 
giver." 


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